Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here
by LilPurplFlwr
Summary: Las Vegas: a city of booze, money, and sin. In the midst of glitz, glamor, and extravagance, lies the lives of not so normal people, filled with love, lust, and deception. After all, anything's possible in Vegas. Action SxYY,BxM,JxO mult. pairings
1. Welcome to Pharaoh's Palace

**A/N**: I went to Las Vegas with my family over winter break. During our stay, I was struck with an interesting revelation. Yami would find great pleasure in casino games, right? With his luck, he would probably make the casino go bankrupt. XD

Right now, I really don't know what I'm going to do with the pairings. I think I might just mix and match to my heart's content… XP I mean, it's Las Vegas! Las Vegas is not known for its fidelity. But, of course, **if you want to see a particular pairing, _please tell me!_**

I named the casino _Pharaoh's Palace_ because I just love the exotic innuendo of it. It's also a Yahoo! Group that I'm in, just if anyone wanted to know.

* * *

Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here 

Chapter 1: Welcome to _Pharaoh's Palace_

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

_A wandering pair of dark brown eyes swept the typically smoke-hazed casino. The relaxing twenty-four year old Black Jack dealer swirled the chilled amber liquid within the clear cup before taking a sip._

"_Looks like a newbie's in town."_

_Standing behind the counter with a damp rag, another young man of the same age was giving more attention to cleaning several previously used glasses than paying attention to his friend._

"_What makes you say that?" the blonde behind the counter asked absentmindedly._

"_Stop wiping those shot glasses for a moment, idiot."_

_With a sigh, Malik Ishtar dried his hands on the towel hung by the sink. He pulled out three wine glasses and scrutinized the bottles lined up beneath the countertop. Rolling up his disobedient sleeves, he uncorked four bottles and set his mind to making the drinks the customers had asked for. The waitress stood nearby, enjoying the extra time the blonde was taking in order to snatch a little break between the fast-paced job._

"_Bakura, sweetheart," Malik said in a voice that dripped with honey as he concentrated on pouring, "Unlike you, who is on his break and getting drunk at the same time, I can multitask in more constructive ways."_

_He could just feel the glare pinned on him. Malik finished quickly and placed the three drinks on the serving plate and nodded to the waitress, who gave a tired huff and plastered a bright smile as she picked up the tray and headed back into the midst of the noisy casino._

"_I am not getting drunk," Bakura placed his cup down with a determined appearance, "Just kidding. I lied." Bakura took another deep swallow of alcohol._

_Malik chuckled lightly and leaned onto the counter, resting on his elbows. "So tell me, what's so marvelously interesting about this new guy? But, you know, just ignoring the fact that you jump on anything that moves."_

"_Please," Bakura shot his friend an injured look, taking no discomfort that their faces were centimeters apart, "Give me a little credit here."_

"_I'm guessing he's our age. Can't be less than twenty-one if he's wandering casinos…" Malik's unique lavender eyes studied the busy scenery, "Has to have a nice body, like me, of course… "_

_Bakura laughed softly, "Your ego never fails to amaze me."_

"_Or turn you on," Malik retorted easily, "Oh, wait… I forgot about that unnaturally high libido of yours."_

"_You just wait a damned minute there – "_

_Malik narrowed his eyes as a crowd began to form around a particular table. "Hey… there's a kid with a pretty wicked hairstyle at Mai's table."_

"_Craps, huh? That's pretty gutsy. He should have started with Twenty-One," Bakura set his now-empty glass on the counter and gave his friend a nudge, "Hey, bartender, you think you could…?"_

"_Trying to get some money out of little naïve novices with your Black Jack skills, Bakura? Tsk," Malik chastised, taking the ice-filled cup and dumping the contents into the sink, mindfully ignoring the disappointed look on the white-haired dealer's face._

"_Only the best players at _Pharaoh's Palace_, of course," Bakura answered with a nonchalant shrug, "We'll see how long he survives."_

"_Just get to work, you bum."_

_

* * *

_

"Hey, Yami."

Walking casually through the middle aisle and on the way back to his hotel room, the young man stopped in his tracks. Atemu Mutou twisted his head in the direction of the voice, glancing back toward an older blond woman. Mai Kujaku. He had first met her at his first casino game – craps. Tonight, she was stationed at the nearby poker table.

Mai, turning her attention back to her table, lay down her hand, her violet eyes catching Atemu's for another split second before dropping back down, and the corners of her lips twitched discreetly. Her five cards displayed a full house, complete with three sevens and a pair of kings. There was a collective murmur of disappointment around the table, but the middle-aged players and rich businessmen had little to lose and continued to play another round. The minimum bet at Mai's table was a good fifty dollars, and those who played there were a gold, platinum, or VIP member. Atemu's hand habitually moved toward his wallet.

He stopped. He had been here at the casino for a good two hours and already gained a net total of around five hundred. Did he really need to press his luck?

"Yami! Buddy!"

Caught off guard, Atemu turned toward the lounge, and the bartender waved. Atemu let himself give a small smile and started for the bar. Behind him, Mai's clear voice was disrupting his resolution to stop for the night.

"Flush."

Another shuffle of chips and cards. Atemu was almost sure that some unknown force was calling him to the poker table as he entered the darkened area of the room.

Katsuya Jounouchi scoffed and leisurely poured bourbon onto a column of ice in a tall glass. He slid the drink across the table, and Atemu took hold of it as he approached.

"Don't you dare let her snag you into another game, you gambler, you," Katsuya's boyish smile dropped as he adopted a serious tone, "Leave her with some dignity, hm?"

"Jou," Atemu replied wearily, sitting on the cushioned stool, "It's just beginner's luck."

"Yeah. Keep saying that – just as you have for the past… oh… _three months?_"

Atemu shrugged, "Mai is a good player. I can't help myself."

He gave the bartender an abashed look before taking a large gulp of alcohol. He could not help the sparkle in his cerise eyes as he eyed the blond dealer. She flashed her cards, a straight this time, at the other players and shot Katsuya a look that clearly said '_What were you saying about needing dignity, little boy?_'

The amber-eyed bartender dropped his head into his palms, "How does she do that?"

"… Do what?"

"Know what I'm saying! And then, she acts as if she's just SO much better than me."

"And '_She's ONLY five years older than me'_ , right?" Atemu smiled innocently and drained his glass, having had this rant drilled into his head. Mai probably had the same phrases memorized as well, seeing as the two of them bickered like an old married couple most of the time.

"How did you know?"

"You're hopeless, you know?"

* * *

_The next day… _

Ringing.

The phone was ringing.

Atemu rolled over, tangling further into the white sheets. A muffled groan worked its way through his throat. Slowly, one eye opened to take in his position. The phone was to his left. Screwing his eyes shut, the twenty-two year old ducked his head beneath the cream colored comforter and moaned softly. His head was pounding, and the ringing was increasing the pain. The young man decided it was time to stop drinking or else his head just might break one morning.

It was not stopping. Atemu could not tell if it was his head or the phone that seemed to be ringing the loudest.

His hand shot out, snatching the phone, and sent the appliance tumbling onto the floor. The receiver stayed within his lax grip. He brought it cautiously to his ear.

"Hello…?"

He was not prepared for the blast of energy that filtered through the line via the front desk woman's voice.

"_Good afternoon, Mr. Mutou! This is your reminder that your payment for next month is due!_"

_Cheerful woman_, Atemu begrudged to himself.

"… Today?"

"_Yes, sir!_"

"… Can't you just bill me?"

He was in a dark, antisocial mood at the moment.

"_I believe you requested that we remind you._"

"… Ow."

Atemu could hear the smile in the woman's voice.

"_Drink safely!_"

_Isn't it drive safely?_

"… Uh… yes. Thank you. I'll stop by the registration desk later. Thank… you… right… okay. Bye."

Atemu dropped the phone back in its place and buried his head under his pillow. He glanced at the digital clock. It was nearly two in the afternoon.

_I've become nocturnal_. Atemu gripped his temples as he slid upright, placing his feet on the carpet. Padding to the bathroom, he headed straight for the portable cabinet he kept near the sink. Pulling out the much-needed bottle of aspirin, he filled a cup with water and took two tablets mechanically. _This is **so **great for my health, really._

_

* * *

_

Swinging open the pilot's door, Seto Kaiba dropped nearly soundlessly onto the roof of his casino. Locking his helicopter, the CEO pocketed the keys and flipped open his cell phone. He quickly dialed his brother's number.

"Mokuba. I'm here."

There was a shuffle of what seemed to be papers swept onto the floor and a loud clunk that made the brunette's eye twitch.

"_Hi, Seto-o_," came the warbled tone of his younger brother.

"… If you're drunk, I'm grounding you right now."

"_I'm not, I'm not!_" Mokuba denied over the phone, sounding normal as if he regained his composure, "_It just happens to be… **seven AM** here in Tokyo!_"

The older brother entered the elevator and leaned against the back wall as the machinery was brought to life with some creaking. Mokuba Kaiba, who had fallen asleep at his desk, took a good few minutes to realize that, by seven o'clock, he should be awake, and, by Seto's standards, working.

"_Oops._"

"Yes, 'oops'," Seto answered coldly, his sharp cerulean eyes watching the lighted numbers on the panel as they indicated the rate of his descending. "Whatever, Mokuba."

"_Yeah. Sorry, Seto._"

"It's okay. Maybe I work you too hard."

"_Finally! Some common sense!_" Even over the static, Seto could hear the exasperation in Mokuba's voice.

"… I'm hanging up."

"_Mou-!_"

* * *

"Good afternoon, Isis."

Alert blue eyes looked up from the computer, and the beautiful Egyptian woman turned in her chair. Her identification, _ISIS ISHTAR,_ was clipped to the traditional Egyptian dress she wore and indicated that she was an employee of _Pharaoh's Palace. _Her dark long tresses were secured out of her face by a gold colored headpiece that completed her calm appearance.

"Atemu Mutou," she folded her hands on the desk, "I was expecting to see you today… though, don't you think it is a little late in the day?"

Lowering his eyes, the young man looked sincerely ashamed, "Well, I overslept."

"Too much gambling again, _Yami?_" Isis asked vaguely, making an obvious condescending remark on Atemu's risky nightlife, as she moved back in her small office to retrieve a pad of paper and pen.

"Just a little, _mother_," Atemu responded, with a bit of sarcasm lacing his otherwise polite voice.

The elegant woman shrugged off the sardonic title. She was used to it, since it came from her ever-troublesome twin brothers and friends, and, now, Atemu.

"Are you depositing money as usual?"

"Yeah. Hold on – let me get it."

He reached for his back pocket and took out his wallet, thicker than usual. Atemu pulled out a thick wad of paper money; it was an entire month's worth of his gambling winnings.

"Are you _sure _you don't want to go to the bank to do this?"

"I trust you."

Isis heaved a mental sigh as the younger man slid the large bundle of cash across the table. Every single time, she felt like she was doing devil's work as she gingerly picked up the stack and set her mind to re-counting the paper money. She placed the stack into the desk drawer and turned to her computer. Opening her bank account, she set to transferring 11,700 to Mutou Atemu's account that she managed, leaving out the other 5,000 for the hotel payment. Like a parent, she oversaw both accounts of her two brothers and even Bakura, who all usually depended on Isis to make the necessary money transactions for deposits and withdrawals. In a business-like fashion, she printed out the receipt of the transaction and gave it to the tense individual in front of her.

Atemu breathed out, relaxing, and felt safer knowing the money was secured.

"I'll stop by the bank later on today," Isis said uselessly, as if just clarifying to herself that the large amount of cash could not sit in the desk forever.

Leaning over the counter, Atemu gave the older woman a quick peck on the cheek, "Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You would probably be robbed for all the cash you carry on you."

He smirked, "That's why only _you _know. I'd like to see you try to mob me."

"I would leave that to Mariku if I really wanted to."

Atemu turned and walked back toward the casino, "Love you lots, I'm going to call home."

"Take care, Atemu."

Isis could see that Atemu visibly stiffened after being addressed by his real name, even if it was from someone so close and dependable. He gave Isis a weak smile and wandered toward the pay phones.

* * *

"Welcome back, Kaiba-sama."

"Kisara," the tall twenty-five year old nodded to his long-time secretary who was one of the people that he actually trusted, "How's everything at _Pharaoh's Palace_?"

The young woman smiled and motioned the other to her desk. Once they both had a clear view of the laptop, Kisara pulled up several graphs and charts on the screen. "Everything's fine. I believe our popularity is going up too. Although, you might want to just take a look around the casino. I can't play those wretched games like you can, and you can at least make sure our dealers are doing their jobs correctly."

"No one has hit any of the big jackpots?"

"You would have been called here right away, Mr. CEO. Shake hands, write on the humongous check, smile and bond with the paparazzi… "

"Mmm… sounds like fun," Seto replied sarcastically, "Been talking to Mokuba lately?"

"No… why do you ask?"

"Your humor gives me the strange impression that you have."

Kisara laughed softly, "No, I'm just glad you're back. It's been too quiet lately."

"You're expecting something big to happen, hm?"

"It _is _Las Vegas."

* * *

**A/N**: .:ducks tomatoes and flames:. I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Was it truly bad?

Please! I need all the suggestions I can get!

Here are some pairings I'm thinking of including:

SetoxYami

BakuraxMalik

But those are all the pairings I'm thinking of. What are _yours! _

Review, review?


	2. Well, hello

**A/N:** I've realized I can't really plot a story until I get the pairings down. How sad, I know. But, just for the fun of it, I won't dictate any solid pairings. As the story progresses, _please tell me if you want to see any pairings._ You can all watch me flounder, too. XP

I think this story is going to turn out like SPNMIC – just picture all the confusion and lack of plot. XD And yes, all characters are going to be thrown in at some point.

Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here

Chapter 2: Well, hello…

By LilPurplFlwr

_In Domino, Japan… _

It was a sweltering Saturday afternoon in July when Yuugi Mutou, a seventeen-year-old senior next fall, received a short message on his cell phone. Unfortunately, Yuugi had been dozing when the ring he set for his older brother began to play. Sprawled on his bed, something registered in the back of his mind about the unusual sound emitting from the phone on his desk, but he dismissed it. However, even after silence had reclaimed the room, Yuugi turned onto his side and opened his violet eyes, trying to attach a name to the rare ring-tone.

"Oh!"

Yuugi straightened, sitting at the edge of his bed. _Nii-chan!_ Getting to his feet, he walked to his desk. Clearing away the clutter, he unearthed his phone and was met with the ever-familiar '_One Missed Call.' _With a stifled sigh, Yuugi lifted the phone to his ear to listen to the message.

_-Beep-_

_Hey, Yuugi. How have you been? I'm sorry I haven't called in a long time. Are you mad at me? It's not like you to miss calls like this. Anyway, Las Vegas hasn't been too exciting, and I miss you. Tell Grandpa that I'm still alive -_

Yuugi's unconscious smile grew bigger as he listened to his brother's recorded chuckle.

_- and have a nice summer vacation, hm?_

_-Click-_

Yuugi gazed blankly out his window as the message ended. Summer vacation, huh? For the second time of the day, Yuugi's eyes widened. Throwing his phone on his bed, he rushed out of his room, in search of his grandfather.

Sugoroku Mutou was organizing their small game shop when his grandson burst into the room from the house.

"Wait, wait. Stop before you hurt yourself," Yuugi's grandfather said sternly as he set down a shipment of cards onto the counter, "Now, what is-"

"Nii-chan called!"

"Well! It's about time!" Sugoroku murmured, using a pair of scissors to open the box, "How is Atemu?"

His grandfather's reaction nearly deflated Yuugi's enthusiasm. However, even that did not keep Yuugi down for long. The seventeen-year-old leaned against the doorway, trying to remember the message.

"Nii-chan sounds okay. Ne, jii-chan…?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's go to Vegas!"

It took a good minute for the suggestion to sink in. Yuugi waited patiently by the door, as if ready to run if his grandfather disagreed. Slowly, Sugoroku put down the scissors and turned to stare incredulously at his grandson.

"Yuugi… we're in _Japan. _With a shop to run."

"You need a _vacation._ We need to see _Nii-chan!" _Yuugi argued, "It's summer! Let's do something _different!_"

Needless to say, Sugoroku Mutou was never very good at denying his grandsons what they wanted. Especially when Atemu moved right out of the country once he finished college. When it came down to Yuugi, who had permanently mastered puppy-dog eyes and used the look often, Sugoroku was even more defenseless. And Yuugi was currently working his cunning expertise to disarm his grandfather.

Sugoroku Mutou found himself on a plane to the United States in three days with an ecstatic Yuugi.

* * *

Ryou Bakura was a little lost. 

Oh, no. He knew where he was - infamous Sin City. However, what Ryou did not know was where his older brother was. And he would very much like to know.

So, Ryou found himself standing alone in front of the hotel, Bellagio, where he would find himself surrounded by tourists every half an hour for the water show. Stifling a sigh, he leaned against concrete partition that ran around the lake of water. He pulled self-consciously at the edge of his open button-down shirt that he wore over a blue-and-white striped T-shirt. The summer heat was making him regret wearing two layers, and he pulled up his sleeves.

Suddenly, nearly giving Ryou a heart attack, a strong arm snaked around his waist, pulling him against a taller body. The second arm wrapped diagonally across Ryou's torso, immobilizing any movement.

"W-wha?"

"Don't you have work right now?" A smooth baritone voice murmured warmly next to Ryou's ear.

"L-let go of me!" Ryou flushed and struggled to get away, his mind in a state of panic.

Twisting enough to push the stranger away, Ryou turned sharply, pressing his back against the hotel and water scene like a trapped animal.

The blonde that now stood in his view did not bother to hide the amusement that was clearly written in his smirk. "Oh…?" However, it was not the casual grin that unnerved Ryou, but instead, it was the glint of extreme interest in the other's indigo-colored eyes.

"U-um…" Ryou stuttered indignantly, averting his eyes to the floor and his brows furrowing as he tried to find the right words to express himself.

"You have an uncanny resemblance to my _friend_," the stranger stated nonchalantly, completely void of any remorse, but held an overwhelming tainted connotation. The blonde, again, closed the distance between them, invading any space Ryou had managed to place between them on the busy sidewalk. A bronzed hand tipped Ryou's chin upward, forcing Ryou to meet his intense stare.

"His name's Bakura. Do you know him?"

"Bakura…?" Ryou's eyes widened, "That's my aniki!"

"So you're his little brother, hm? What's your name?"

Ryou shifted uncomfortably under the blonde's scrutiny. "Ryou… " When he was released, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing out here alone?"

Ryou watched speechlessly as the other casually settled back against the concrete railing beside him, as if nothing had happened at all. The blonde pulled out a pack of cigarettes, sticking a slender cylinder between his lips and lighting the cigarette with a silver lighter. Once finished with his task, the blonde glanced over to Ryou, who looked away, ashamed to be caught staring.

"So? What are you standing out in front of Bellagio for?" the blonde repeated, a smug smile spreading across his face seeing Ryou's fidgety action.

"U-uh… I don't know where 'Kura is," Ryou admitted, turning around to face the hotel front, his face burning with embarrassment.

"_Pharaoh's Palace._"

"Excuse me?" Ryou blinked, not recognizing the name.

"One of the newer hotels. Crazy expensive and inexplicably popular." The other took another drag from the cigarette before dropping it on the floor and crushing it beneath his shoe. He began to walk away. "Let's go."

"O-okay…"

Ryou pushed himself away from where he had been standing for a couple of hours. Following behind the other, Ryou fell into step with the other, keeping a reasonable amount of space between them. However, the streams of people that were cruising along the strip increased significantly in the evening, and Ryou was having a hard time avoiding others and keeping up with the blonde.

"Don't get separated."

Ryou felt the other grab his wrist, pulling him closer and wrapping a secure arm around his waist.

"T-thanks," Ryou mumbled, shying away from a dealer that was trying to hand him some sort of pornography on the street. "U-uh… I forgot to ask… what's your name?"

"Mariku Ishtar."

* * *

"Hey." 

Katsuya looked up with a raised eyebrow at the familiar voice. His amber stare met slanted green eyes. The other leaned across the countertop and grasped Katsuya's jaw, suddenly pulling the blonde forward into a deep kiss.

"Mmn…!" was all Katsuya could manage before a warm tongue pushed past his lips into his mouth, coaxing his own tongue into play. Closing his eyes, Katsuya deepened the kiss momentarily, before pulling away quickly. Licking his lips, Katsuya tipped his head to one side, giving the other a suspicious look. "What was that for, Otogi?"

The black-haired dealer pushed a strand of hair from his eyes, only to have it fall back against the curve of his cheek, "Oh, that? You were just asking for it."

"I don't remember saying anything," Katsuya said, as amused as he was annoyed.

Otogi Ryuuji leaned back in towards the blonde with a playful grin, "Not literally, of course. You're just too cute. I couldn't help myself."

Katsuya made a skeptical noise in the back of his throat, "Sexual frustrated much, Otogi?"

Choosing to ignore the comment, Otogi settled onto one of the stools and folded his arms on the counter, "Scotch on the rocks, Jou."

"Can't deny it," Katsuya muttered under his breath, pulling out a clean glass and filling it with ice before pouring the alcohol. "Here," the blonde pushed the drink to his friend.

"Well, you can change that, can't you, Jou?" Otogi replied lightly, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip.

Katsuya sighed, resting his head on his palm as he idly watched the column of the other's throat as he swallowed, "Don't you have anyone else to hit on?"

"By the way," Otogi narrowed his eyes, giving Katsuya a piercing stare, as he fingered the glass rim of his glass, "You seem to be getting sort of _close _with that Yami kid."

It finally clicked. Katsuya's eyes widened slightly. Was Otogi Ryuuji… _jealous?_

"You know, not like I care," the other looked away from the blonde with forced disinterest, "Just curious and all."

And yet, for some reason, knowing that there was actually some truth and motive beneath the dealer's flattering lines pleased Katsuya. Knowing to tread cautiously when the other seemed to be sulking, Katsuya gave a small grin, which Otogi caught in the corner of his eye. Turning back to the blonde and getting ready to berate the other for being tactless, Otogi did not expect the bartender to lean over to him and seal their lips together in a quick kiss.

"Hey, I wouldn't just let anyone make out with me during work," Katsuya said as he pulled back.

Otogi blinked owlishly. He was not positive, but he could have sworn that was the first time Katsuya had kissed him first.

"And what about out of work?" the dealer asked mischievously, readopting his teasing tone.

"The unfortunate one would find himself with something broken."

"… Are you serious?"

* * *

Seto Kaiba had been sitting in a quiet booth in the corner of the restaurant in the casino and talking to Mokuba on his cell phone when he noticed a young man hand a card to the cashier up front. 

"_Hey, Seto?_" came his brother's confused voice, "_Why did you stop talking?_"

"Nothing much," the CEO replied absently, eyeing the newcomer with growing interest.

By appearance, the young man was probably no more than twenty-one, maybe twenty-three max. And yet, in his hand, was the casino's platinum card. Figuring that the other would never notice him, Seto continued to study him, having long forgotten what he was discussing with his younger brother.

"_S-seto…? What's going on?_"

Mokuba's panicking voice regained Seto's attention.

"Sorry, Mokuba. What is it?"

"_What is that supposed to mean? It's **you** that suddenly sounded like you died!_"

Again, Seto's eyes wandered to the figure that followed the waitress to a table, having a friendly chat with the middle-aged woman before she left to get him a drink. Golden bangs bordered a rather delicate-looking face, where dark, perhaps black, hair stuck out wildly otherwise. Yet, when the young man moved to rest his head onto his fist in order to glance over the menu, scarlet highlights flashed beneath the dim light above him.

"Kaiba-sama?" came a polite voice, "I'm sorry, but are you ready to order?"

"Hm?" Seto looked up to see a younger waitress bowing apologetically before him.

"_- So I fired them because they ate my pie. My PIE!_" Mokuba's distressed voice suddenly pierced through Seto's comprehension.

"Wait! _WHAT?" _Seto exclaimed into his phone, scaring the waitress who emitted a small squeal of shock and ran back to the kitchen.

There was no appreciation of Mokuba's laughter from the other line.

"_Oh my god, Seto! I should have recorded that just to play it back to you…_"

Seto snarled into his phone, "I should have you grounded for that."

"_Oh, nii-san! It was your fault for ignoring me! Besides! You forget I'm twenty already!_"

"Then stop acting like you're twelve. I'm hanging up."

"_Mou-!_"

Flipping his phone shut with an annoyed sigh, Seto looked up to speak to the waitress, only to discover the girl was gone. However, looking across the room, his gaze met amused crimson eyes. However, their stare was broken when the other looked up to speak to the waitress.

-

"Got it. Anything else, dear?"

"U-um… I guess not," Atemu shook his head, handing his menu to the woman, "Thanks."

As she left, Atemu peered cautiously across the room, searching for the brunette sitting alone in the corner of the restaurant in one of the booths. Apparently, the man had managed to call the young waitress back over to him. Strangely though, even with the menu clutched to her chest, the brunette continued to speak with her. Atemu could not help but wonder about what.

-

"I believe Yami is a really popular gambler at the casino, Kaiba-sama," the waitress answered meekly, "I don't know any more than the rumors that circulate, sir."

"Rumors?" Seto asked casually, taking a sip from his drink, his tone offering no other alternative to her but to continue speaking.

"A-ah… Yami is supposed to be a game master. Either that, or he has exceptionally good luck. Only, that would be an understatement," the girl looked more flustered by the moment, "U-uh… that's all I know… "

"I see. You may go."

The girl bowed again and left for the kitchen.

"Game master, hm?" Seto said softly, a small smile gracing his face, "I'd like to see if that's true."

* * *

**A/N: Please review!**

How's my playing of pairings? More interesting things coming up, of course. XP

Things I'm thinking about next chapter: Ryou finally finds Bakura. Seto and Yami play a 'friendly' game of poker. Yuugi enters the Vegas scene. Perhaps something with Anzu, Shizuka, or Honda? Not that I'm particularly eager about the latter. XD


	3. Didn’t Expect Me, Did You?

**A/N:** I based the aging system by **sibling age-differences** as reasonably as I could, using the Yu-Gi-Oh series/manga as a base. For example:

_Seto Kaiba_ (25) and _Mokuba Kaiba_ (20) - age difference - 5.

_Isis Ishtar_ (32) and _Malik Ishtar_ (24) - age difference - 8 (I always thought it was somewhere around 7, but I'm not sure). _Yami no Malik_ would be Malik's twin brother because I see no large age difference between them, unlike Yami no Yuugi/Yuugi and Yami no Bakura/Ryou. I was planning to give Yami no Malik another random name, but I stayed with **Mariku** because we all don't like name-alterations. XP Of course, obviously, twins would not have near-identical names (Mariku being pronounces as Malik _anyway_, but for now, it is _different_, you hear? XD)

_Katsuya Jounouchi_ (23) and _Shizuka Jounouchi_ (19) - age difference - 4. (I have absolutely no idea! It just seemed logical for this story.)

And for my sibling pairings outside the series…

_Atemu Mutou_ (22) and _Yuugi Mutou_ (17 as of June 5) - age difference - 5.

_Nusumu Bakura_ (24) and _Ryou Bakura_ (18 when September 2, but since this is set during the summer, he is still 17) - age difference - 7. If I ever need Bakura's first name, which I just might if he decides to do something illegal (XD), I'll have to settle with Nusumu, which, in Japanese, is the verb for "to commit theft". Corny, I know. Let's hope I don't need his first name.

And just if any of you are wondering: _Mai Kujaku_ (28 – increase of 4 years), _Otogi Ryuuji_ (23 – to match Katsuya and Hiroto's age), _Anzu Mazaki_ (22), _Hiroto Honda_ (23).

Naturally, everyone's age had to be increased… can't gamble if you're not 21. XP I hope that was helpful for those who were wondering how in the world Mokuba turned out _three years older_ than Yuugi, who naturally would be… four years older than him. I feel pathetic to admit, but I actually had this planned out before I started writing the first chapter… eheheh… how embarrassing…. **Sorry for the long Author's Notes.**

Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here 

Chapter 3: Didn't Expect Me, Did You?

By LilPurplFlwr

"Hey."

Malik's heart painfully skipped two beats before he was able to relax against the familiar embrace from behind. He gave a shaky sigh and nestled into the other's arms.

"Don't scare me like that, idiot."

"You're too uptight." Bakura leaned forward, licking the other's ear lightly before kissing a wet path down the blonde's neck.

"Hell, no," Malik answered bitingly, aggravated, but too tired from the day's work to argue, his eyes falling shut at the gentle ministrations, "This new schedule has my nerves completely shot." He tilted his head at an oblique angle to catch Bakura's lips in a heated kiss.

"Mmm…" Bakura murmured, pulling his roommate closer and deepening the kiss, delving into the other's mouth with his tongue. Withdrawing only after breathing became impertinent to live, the Black Jack dealer smirked at the slightly dazed look in the other's darkened lavender eyes. "Would you like to work your frustrations out on me?"

"Oh, would I…" Malik replied coyly, turning around to face Bakura, ready to push the other against the bar's back-room door and continue their activities with his full concentration.

"You two going at it never ceases to amaze me."

A deflated sigh escaped from the Egyptian, who gave a whiny groan and rested his head on Bakura's shoulder, letting his friend's long platinum hair cover his tortured expression.

"Jou, that was uncalled for," Bakura responded lightly, "I think you just killed Malik."

"Fuck me in the next minute, and I'm sure I'll be fine," Malik muttered darkly to Bakura, who had to stifle a laugh.

Katsuya walked behind the counter, "Malik, your shift ends in five minutes, and Bakura, I don't even _know_ when you're supposed to start work."

"In about an hour, I suppose," Bakura gave a careless grin and shrugged gently, careful not to jar his lax partner.

"Oh… the schedules are pretty fucked up then," Katsuya raised an eyebrow, "I never knew I would be alive to see them split up your schedules."

"_I'll kill them, god damn it!_" Malik seethed, angrily biting Bakura's neck, which was conveniently near him, seeing as Malik still had his face buried against the crook of Bakura's neck.

"H-hey!" Bakura nearly yelped, his fingers lacing through Malik's silky tresses and giving them a slight tug, "Watch it!" The only response was another whine.

The younger of the three chuckled, running his hand through his messy golden strands, "Wow. Malik's not too happy with the new arrangement, is he?"

"I'd say it's fucking up his hormones," Bakura said with a wry grin, before the very smile was wiped off and his eyes widened, "A-ah…what the fuck!"

Katsuya slapped both hands over his amber eyes and turned sharply away from the couple, "Aw, _gross_, Malik! That borders on public indecency! No! This IS public indecency!"

"M-malik… I-I re-e-eally think that you –" Bakura's sentence was lost as his breathing became erratic.

"Should get my hand out of your pants? I think not."

And using his free hand, the frustrated bartender threw open the door behind his lover, pulled the other inside with a commanding jerk, which eliciting a strangled noise from Bakura, and slammed the door behind them.

"We can get plenty done in an _hour_."

* * *

"Hey, Mrs. Mary?" Atemu asked, having finally caught the elderly waitress when she took a short break, "I noticed that John wasn't at the tables today. Is he sick?" He dumped his plates into the collection of dirty dishes. With all the advantages and bargains that came with being a platinum card member, Atemu felt innately guilty for things like his free meals.

"Oh, Yami, sweetheart," the waitress replied with a small smile, "Calling me 'Mary' is just fine," she gestured at her nametag.

Atemu shook his head, "No, you should be addressed with respect. I may have lived in America for some time, but I'm not _that _rude."

The woman laughed softly, "I'm glad to know such a courteous young man. To answer your question, my son quit his job this morning."

This troubled Atemu. True that the said dealer was not very good, but gamblers at the casino in general were much _worse._ "A few people quit then? I just thought there was a flu bug going around or something…"

"I wouldn't call the CEO of Kaiba Corporation just a bug, Yami, dear," the woman gave a discreet wave to the same solitary corner that Atemu had been glancing at momentarily every few minutes throughout his meal – unconsciously, honestly.

"I thought that was a rumor. I heard it about a week ago," Atemu quirked an eyebrow, "Are you sure? He looks… really young."

Another glance at the brunette, who was typing on a laptop with a deep look of the utmost concentration, the glow from the computer screen illuminating his blue eyes with a strange unearthly white.

"He is. Twenty-five years old. Exceptional man. I heard that he was running Kaiba Corporation since he was sixteen."

"_Kaiba Corporation!_"

"It's finally sunk in?" the waitress laughed, "Yami! And I thought you were from Japan."

"I am! But… I've gotten so used to seeing 'KC' labels on all these products that I didn't really give it a second thought."

"Just think… you would have been in… middle school when he was running a company," she said absently, "What a man."

A small smile graced Atemu's lips, "I'm sorry I can't be your child prodigy. But, what does his coming to check up on his Vegas casino have anything to do with all these dealers quitting?"

"You are a deprived child," she replied with mirth dancing in her eyes, "Don't you know? Now that he's here, he knows which incompetent people to fire."

"You don't seem very angry at your son."

"I understand his position completely."

"I still don't understand."

"Seto Kaiba is a complete _monster _when it comes to games like these, Yami," she whispered, giving a nod in the direction of the said person, "If you watched him, you would think that luck had nothing to do with it. Of course, if he weren't already a billionaire, he could have been from just plain gambling! I don't know if it's from being a mathematical genius, but – " she signed and shook her head, "It's just amazing. He would have destroyed dealers like my son."

"You guys will be alright, yes?"

"Oh, of course. John found another job at another casino, of course. Quick referrals and all."

"That's good," Atemu mused, studying the CEO deeply.

"Yami, if anything, don't go up against Kaiba-sama."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Mary. Not to be disrespectful, but I would not rely on gossip like this. Have you ever seen him play?"

"Four years ago, when he turned twenty-one. We haven't seen him then after except when he built this casino and hotel."

"Four years is a long time to hold the title of master gamer, don't you think?"

_Besides, this worship has gone on long enough. It's getting ridiculous!_

* * *

"Wow! This looks so _awesome!_" 

Words could not describe the sight that Yuugi saw from his hotel room. Through the slanted windows of the hotel, Luxor, he could see why Las Vegas was known as the City That Never Sleeps. It was late at night and yet with all the neon lights, flashing signs, and hundreds of people wandering the streets and hotels, it was like there was always something or someone awake.

"Jii-chan! Can we go to _Pharaoh's Palace_ now?"

"Tomorrow, Yuugi," his grandfather turned on one of the two twin beds in their hotel room, "The plane ride was awful."

"I'm sorry, jii-chan," Yuugi apologized, still gazing at the excitement below their room. It was absolutely amazing.

"Tomorrow you can go, okay? I'd like to be awake to get any phone call from you."

"Okay," Yuugi agreed, suddenly awash with the thought of getting lost at this time of night, "Is it okay if I watch the television before I go to bed? Will it bother you?"

There was no response from his slumbering grandfather.

* * *

"Here we go."

Ryou's eyes widened as he entered the reception area of the vast hotel, _Pharaoh's Palace_. A fountain was set in the middle of the floor, amidst the benches and the bridges over the shallow river that circled it. Intricate hieroglyphics were carved on the surface of the fountain, whose clear waterfalls fell into a large Egyptian styled bath that emulated a lotus pond.

"…"

Mariku, who was smoking another cigarette, glanced at the silent boy next to him, and with a lewd grin, he commented casually, "You might want to close that mouth of yours, Ryou, because– "

"Mariku Ishtar! Where have you been these past three days!"

"Shit."

Ryou's eyes fell on a beautiful woman who stormed up to them, a typical Egyptian dress wrapped around her slim, tanned figure. Her bright blue eyes were sparked with something that strongly urged Ryou to duck and hide.

When she reached them, she stopped and gave Mariku a suspicious glare, "That's strange. You didn't turn and disappear on me like you usually might."

"Well, I have something to take care of, _sister._"

Isis glanced down and blinked twice, seeing a mini-Bakura next to her brother. "Bakura's… little brother?"

"Cute little thing, isn't he?" Mariku asked, taking a drag from his cigarette, which earned another irritated glance from his guardian.

"Sorry, you'll have to excuse him. I'm sorry if I scared you a moment back," Isis apologized, holding out her hand to shake Ryou's, "My name is Isis Ishtar. I take care of your brother's finances, and, hopefully, keep him out of trouble, since he runs wild with my brothers."

"Oh," Ryou managed a weak smile, trying to get rid of Mariku peculiar smirk from his head, "I'm Ryou Bakura. Please call me Ryou. I… uhm… am 'Kura's little brother, I suppose."

Isis gave a tinkling laugh, "So you are. Well, I guess my irresponsible brother here was actually doing something correctly. Once you meet your brother, make sure this troublemaker calls me, okay? I have… some things to… _discuss_ with him."

She shot another chilly stare at the said brother which Mariku simply warded off by looking indifferently the other way.

"A-ah… okay… it was nice meeting you, Ishtar-san," Ryou pulled slightly on the edge of Mariku's black shirt, "Can we go now?"

"Oh, of course. Did my sister scare you?" Placing a hand at the base of Ryou's back and guiding him past Isis, Mariku threw a cool smile at his sister as they walked into the smoky casino.

"What a family," Isis sighed beneath her breath and prepared to go home after a long day.

* * *

"Katsuya!" 

A young girl dashed into the bar, a gym bag slung over her shoulder, her long copper-colored locks in a ponytail.

"He-e-ey, my little rubber band!" Katsuya ducked beneath the counter just in time for the bag to be flung at his head. He straightened again, this time with a water bottle in hand, "How was practice?"

"Fine as usual. Thanks, onii-chan," she accepted the water bottle and took a big gulp, "We're only the _best _Cirque du Soliel show on the strip!"

"Those gymnastic lessons did some good, I suppose," Katsuya with a smile at his sister's confidence, "If I didn't know better, I would think your ego's overly inflated."

"I said the show, not me. I get to do a new tumbling series, actually."

"You want to show me?"

"Sure! Anything for my brother," she gave a beaming smile, and moved in between the empty tables, standing in the aisle.

"Do you have enough room?"

"Plenty!"

She zipped up her warm-up jacket, making sure it would not get in her way. She then went through a succession of acrobatic flips. Her feet and hands lined up perfectly on the subtle line marked on the wooden floor.

An enthusiastic clapping issued from the entrance of the lounge. "That was great, Shizuka."

"Mai!" Shizuka smiled and waved, "Thanks!"

Katsuya whirled his head around to see the female dealer enter the lounge. She nodded her greeting to him and settled on one of the stools with a tired flick of her blonde hair, "Coke, Jou."

"Got it. Still got few hours left, huh?"

"Too many. Those idiots just had to shit in their pants and run off at the sound of Seto Kaiba's name."

"I'm glad you're confident in your skills as a player."

"Of course. If you've played as long as I have, you would be, obviously," Mai took the cold glass of soda from Katsuya and took a long sip, "Mmm… this caffeine better keep me going."

"So, Mai," Shizuka sat down next to the older woman, "What are you playing tonight?"

"I've got the Roulette table for two hours and then I'm playing poker for the next three."

"Katsuya… forget the soda and bring out the espresso with extra shots," Shizuka said, her tone dead serious.

Mai laughed, "Jou, you better keep your eyes open for your little sister or you'll be beating off dozens of Shizuka's male fans."

"I've seen a good share of that already," Katsuya replied good-naturedly, "Including that idiotic Hiroto and Otogi."

"Are we talking about Otogi Ryuuji?" Mai laughed airily, "I could have sworn he's queer!"

Shizuka quickly jumped at the opportunity, "Oh, but he is."

"I fairly doubt it," Katsuya grabbed a damp cloth and began to clean the inexistent stains on the counter. "Sometimes he's too busy flirting with you that he doesn't even notice my frightening aura that threatens to consume him."

Both girls laughed. Honestly, Katsuya was anything but intimidating.

"No, actually, onii-chan, between practicing his pick-up lines on me, he just talks about _you_. Somehow, everything comes back to you."

"What a very _odd_ observation, indeed, Shizuka-chan," Mai supported with an evil smile.

"Stop! That's quite enough about Otogi Ryuuji that I need for a day!" Katsuya childishly covered his ears with the palms of his hands.

"Oh, Jou," Mai offered, "Truthfully, he gives me a lot of dirty looks because he thinks you like me. It's getting a little old."

Katsuya began to turn pink.

"Maybe you should go out with him," Shizuka offered, "Don't do this to poor Mai!"

"Listen to your baby sister!" seconded Mai with an approving grin.

"I don't want to discuss this anymore!"

"Are you sexually frustrated, Jou?"

"That's what I was wondering, onii-chan."

"Where have I heard this before?" Katsuya said with a large sigh.

* * *

_A couple hours later… _

"Hey, sorry. I didn't know Bakura would still be at work right now. Their schedules must have changed."

"It's okay, really," Ryou said softly, as they walked out of the administration office.

"Hold on," Mariku grabbed Ryou's wrist and held it, "I have an idea."

Ryou watched curiously as the other pulled out a cell phone. Having dialed a number, the blonde held the phone up to his ear and waited until the other line picked up.

_"Mmm… 'ello?" _

"Well, hey, Sleeping Beauty. Where are you?"

_"You're an idiot, Mariku." _

"What did you do – fall asleep in the back room again?"

Ryou raised an eyebrow. This was some conversation, from what he heard from just the one-sided conversation by Mariku.

"_For your information, you pervert, I'm at the gardens. What's wrong? Get locked out of the house? Don't tell me you robbed a bank again."_

Mariku growled low in his throat, giving Ryou nearly a heart attack when the grip around his wrist tightened painfully.

"I've got Bakura's little brother with me, but Bakura's still at work. Ryou's getting uncomfortable with just me, but I don't want him wandering Vegas alone."

"_Little brother, huh? **Awww.** My twin's worried about someone **else**? Fuck, I got to meet this kid. Is he as hot as Bakura?"_

Mariku closed the phone quickly, before letting go of Ryou's wrist. "My brother's not home yet, he's still at the gardens waiting for Bakura. Since we all live together with your brother, you want to wait with us?"

Ryou had little choice but to say yes.

Mariku began to walk to the public gardens that was one of the showcases at _Pharaoh's Palace_, "It's a really pretty garden that's temperature controlled to showcase exotic plants from different places in the world, not only Egypt. It's impressive, you'll like it."

Ryou must have had a terrified look on his face for Mariku to try to comfort him.

The Egyptian's cell phone rang loudly, as if it was angry. Mariku's eyes adopted a steely look again as he picked up.

"_It's me, **sweetie**."_

"What is it?" Mariku, who adopted a faster walking pace. Ryou nearly had to run after the taller man. "Sorry, Ryou. No, not that corridor." Mariku absently grabbed Ryou's hand, concentrating too much on the mocking voice on the other line.

_"Oo-h, I've never heard that tone of voice… you almost sound like Isis. Anyway, I felt a stab of pain as my darling brother hung up on me!"_

"I'm going to kill you when I see you."

"_**Ryou** wouldn't be too happy, would he?"_

"Shut up!"

_"So is he that cute or what, if you're getting all hot and bothering about it?" _

Seething, Mariku turned off his cell phone and shoved it deep into his pocket.

"Is everything okay with your… uhm… brother, right?"

"Twin, actually."

"Is everything—"

"Here we go."

Stepping outside, Ryou stepped into what looked like a maze of routes around a large garden. Following him, Mariku pointed to the greenhouses that circled the outside greenery, "The ones that can't grow out here are kept at different climates if you're interested."

"… I've never seen these flowers before." Ryou ran to the first assortment and out of earshot, "Wow… they don't have these in Japan!"

"Oh… is this him?" a familiar baritone asked from behind Mariku, the tell-tale smell of cigarette smoke indicating his brother's entrance.

"He's apparently attracted to pretty things."

"As am I, for that fact," Malik gave a predatory grin, licking his lips, "I really need to thank Bakura's parents for doing such a good job."

"You are unbelievable."

"And your newly found sentimental values are beginning to piss me off, Mariku."

Ryou peered back at the entrance, and blinked wondrously at the two similar-looking brothers. However, they could be easily told apart, seeing as they were probably fraternal twins.

Noticing that Ryou was eyeing them, Malik gave the younger boy a winning smile and a friendly wave. Ryou hesitantly waved back with an uncertain smile.

"Wow, I see why you're attached."

With that, Malik stuck his cigarette between his brother's slightly open mouth, and left to approach Ryou.

"Ryou Bakura, right?" Malik held out his hand in introduction, "I'm Malik Ishtar, very close friend with your older brother. Great guy, honestly."

Ryou slowly shook the other's hand, nearly jumped when Malik's second hand covered his own pale digits.

"You're okay, right?" Malik gave the other boy a concerned look, and Ryou stared, slightly bewildered, into the lavender gaze, which differed from Mariku's darkened indigo. "My brother didn't do anything inappropriate to you, did he? He's really a pervert at heart."

"A-ah…" Ryou turned pink, a full flashback of his first meeting with the said blonde, "H-he did mistaken me for 'Kura."

"No! He didn't!" Malik gasped, "He… he… Mariku… oh my god! He didn't! I'm ashamed to be related to him!"

Ryou was lost. He was _completely _lost. More lost than he had been even before Mariku found him.

And Mariku, at the moment, was seething. No, seething would have been an understatement. Yes, he knew what his twin was playing at it. And there was no doubt that Ryou would easily fall for it. Mariku hit his forehead with his palm. This could not be happening. But it was. And desperate times called for desperate measures.

-

Bakura was currently in the process of making a table-full of people lose hundreds of dollars when his cell phone rang. Excusing himself, he continued to deal another game, pressing the phone between his ear and shoulder, and answered the caller with a preoccupied grunt.

_"Bakura, it's Mariku."_

"So it is. What is it?" Bakura hissed quietly, using one hand to flip cards and one to hold the phone, "I'm working, you know."

_"And your little brother is in the evil clutches of Malik. Who is about six inches from full-out molestation in the public gardens."_

"**_WHAT?_**"

That surely scared half the table.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," Bakura hissed, standing up from his seat and searching the area for anyone on break. "Why is _Ryou_ in Vegas?"

_"Wanted to surprise you, I suppose."_

"Do something, Mariku! I thought I cured Malik's fucking frustrations!" Bakura spotted Mai closing up her table and heading for the poker tables. "MAI! Take over for me, please? Family emergency!"

Mai widened her eyes and hurried to help her fellow dealer out.

_"You know my fucking twin. He's a freaking nympho sometimes."_

"Fucking shit," Bakura broke into a run toward the gardens. "Not Ryou. Anyone but Ryou."

_"You've got some protective older brother complex there, Bakura."_

"You'd know, since you've met him. It's Ryou we're talking about," Bakura replied grimly.

* * *

**A/N: **I spend a whole day on this chapter. XP I made it extra-long for my extra-long absences for my other Yu-Gi-Oh stories. I tried really hard to make it exciting… but… I don't think I did it correctly. O.O;

Sorry, I actually meant to write on, because I wanted to add in this large section of Seto x Yami and… some pissed-off Bakura-ness… but my writing just died.

Next chapter: Seto and Yami are going to play _some _kind of thing… I just don't know what… because Bakura just scampered off to help poor, tortured Ryou—which is also going to be included in the next chapter. And Yuugi jumps his brother the next morning—once he can stalk down Atemu. Perhaps it's time to throw in Anzu…?

_**Please review!**_


	4. Let's Play

**A/N: **So, as you all heard, two computers fried with a month between. . In fact, I was writing a new chapter when the first one crashed and repeated the whole episode. My, was I mad. But when my second computer died, enraged and shocked would not begin to describe my facial expressions. XP

Also, it _is_ dangerous to do tumbling on hardwood floor, so forgive me. What I had imagined was just a few walkovers, if not a back-handspring of sorts. However, it would contradict the entire Cirque du Soliel quality, so pay no mind. Thanks, muffinsnail.

**Incest** is most definitely being considered. Las Vegas **is **Sin City, after all. For, RyouN'BakuraRockz21. Anyone who is against it, speak now or forever hold your peace – 'cause I'm planning something _risque!_

_

* * *

_

Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here

Chapter 4: Let's Play.

by LilPurplFlwr

* * *

Sometimes, Atemu could recall what sanity was. Nowadays, he seemed to rather lack any sensible thought. As he slid into a seat at the Black Jack table, he shared a tactful smirk with the ever-on-task Mai Kujaku, who, for a strange reason, was not working at the poker tables.

As he placed a fifty-dollar chip before him, Atemu's mind shifted again, a slight frown residing on his usually calm features. He absently picked up the two cards set for him, an Ace of Spades and King of Hearts flashing mockingly in front of his eyes. He automatically waved away any offered cards.

Why, of all the things, would he find himself preoccupied with the image of Seto Kaiba?

"Sir," the blond dealer asked with a tint of amusement in her business-like voice, "Would you mind divulging your cards?"

Atemu looked up, shaken from his reverie, and noticed everyone's open hand sprawled across the green felt of the table.

"Oh..." He lay down his two cards, a troubled look flashing in his eyes as his mind kept running through each detail. _Bright blue eyes_, Atemu argued with himself as he tried to imagine the brunette without the white glare of the laptop screen, all the while ignoring the new money he had just gained. _This is really annoying_, Atemu finally decided, turning his attention to the game.

Mai was glad when she saw the decisive flick of the young man's head, as if a toss of bangs would erase his problems.

"Back in the game, dear?" she asked mischievously.

"When was I out of it?" Atemu shot back with a raised eyebrow, shocking the other players and gathering spectators as he tossed an additive of cards that equaled twenty on the table, beating the dealer's own count of eighteen.

-

"Always the workaholic, I see."

Seto looked up from his laptop, still seated in the corner of the restaurant. His secretary Kisara pushed back her light blue strands behind her ear. He returned his steady gaze to the computer screen. His fingers flew over the keyboard; it was obvious to Kisara that he was entering a password.

"I wouldn't call this work. Sit," the CEO muttered, nodding to the extra space next to him.

The woman frowned suspiciously as she took the seat, "Not work?" She took a moment to decide upon a hypothesis, "Pornography?"

Seto glared at her from his peripheral view, "I forbid you to contact Mokuba ever."

"He's my second boss, after all," Kisara replied evenly, with a small smile.

She received an irritated sigh. Seeing as she was about to experience the infamous Kaiba wrath, Kisara shrugged and leaned toward the screen. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm checking our members."

Kisara could not resist the urge, and whispered, "I think that counts as work, Kaiba-sama."

"No. I'm checking for a man named Yami."

"I won't ask why, but, again, _is something wrong_?"

"He had a platinum card, but he isn't listed," Seto stated carefully, his eyes still scanning the search results.

The secretary's dark ocean-blue eyes flashed with realization, "We're dealing with forgery?"

* * *

"You know, come to think of it, you're an exact copy of your brother," Malik mused, brushing back a wisp of Ryou's snowy strands, his hand lingering behind the other's ear.

Ryou shifted uncomfortably when he became conscious of Malik's casual hold on his shoulder.

"You know... I can't help but wonder," Malik's voice dropped in volume, and leaned closer to Ryou. Ryou inclined his head instinctively to hear, but instantly regretted it. "--if you taste like Bakura, too."

"_W-what?_"

The hand upon his shoulder tightened, pulling Ryou inward to close the space between them. Malik gave a predator-like smirk at Ryou's disorientated expression. Taking advantage of the momentary hesitation, he bent down to press their mouths together, ignoring an extraneous slam of a door in the background.

He was yanked backwards violently, and shoved onto his ass after receiving a fist in his jaw.

"You fucking bastard!" came an awfully familiar—and pissed off-- voice from above him.

"'Kura!"

Wincing, Malik opened his eyes to find Ryou hugging Bakura for all that he was worth.

"Idiot! What are you doing here?" Bakura asked, narrowing his eyes at his little brother, as he embraced Ryou even closer, planting a soft kiss on the other's face.

"I missed you." The smaller of the two buried his face into the other's neck, successfully muffling his next sentences.

A hand dropped onto Malik's head nonchalantly, and the Egyptian found his older twin squatting next to him with amusement written all over his face. "That was interesting."

"... _Ow_," Malik only replied, staying seated on the floor, his hand touching his face, "You could have stopped me, you know."

"I could have," Mariku said with a small smile and an indifferent shrug, "But what fun would that be?"

Malik made a disgusted noise, getting angrier by the second as he rubbed the forming bruise on his chin. He turned to Bakura, ready to unleash a full stream of cursing, but ended up childishly staring in awe at the scene.

Ryou, needing several inches more to equal his older brother's height, stood on tiptoes, his balance held by Bakura who had his arms around the younger one's waist. The seventeen-year-old was whispering into Bakura's ear. The two were pressed together in their own world.

"Mariku," Malik reached over to pull on the corner of his twin's shirt, his mouth in a full pout.

"Hmm?"

"Why can't we be like that?" Malik asked innocently, pointing to Bakura and Ryou.

"Because we don't love each other."

"Oh, right," Malik's eyes narrowed, "I guess I forgot between the copious amounts of sex."

"Your vocabulary is expanding."

"Shut up."

Bakura laughed softly at something Ryou said, and hugging his little brother one last time, released him and turned to his friends.

"I don't know whether I should castrate you or kill you," Bakura finally stated, giving Malik a dark look.

"Kill me. I need my penis to have sex in the afterlife," Malik answered lewdly, "Or when I come back to haunt you guys."

Ryou slowly turned rose. With another angry glare, Bakura took Ryou's hand in his, pulling him towards the casino and away from the seated blonde.

Seeing as Bakura still had work and Ryou was a tad too young (four years!) to be wandering around the casino, they had a dilemma on their hands. There was no chance that Bakura would leave his little brother alone with the others, and the Black Jack dealer would very much like to be within hearing range of his sibling.

"... I just hope Jou will do me a favor," Bakura finally concluded.

"After what _we_ did?" Ryou heard Malik mutter.

* * *

No matter how many times Mai watched, she decided she would never be able to understand how this young man was playing. There was a saying for Atemu's sheer good fortune – _Lady Luck smiled on you_ or something in those lines. However, instead of smiling, it seemed that Lady Luck gave birth of him.

"I should turn in for tonight," Atemu decided out loud. Bracing himself on the edge of the table, Atemu made to stand up, but found himself unable to with the crowd that had gathered around him. "Excuse me, please," Atemu picked up the small stack of his winning chips, when a new, unfamiliar figure slid into the vacated seat beside him.

"Leaving so soon?"

Atemu turned sharply, knowing the chances of being confronted by the city's mafia. The crowd had distanced itself from the table by a good few feet. Thrown off by the strange behavior, Atemu was pulled back into taking his seat by a firm hand.

Annoyed, Atemu glared at the perpetrator. It was just his luck, his god-awful fortune, to find the one and only Seto Kaiba perched indifferently on the stool next to him.

"Yes, I was leaving," Atemu replied cautiously, his eyes studying the man next to him, who had dark-brown hair that nearly fell into deep pools of cobalt blue eyes, an _infuriating_ smirk on sensual lips, and tempting tanned skin that peeked from the top of his dress-shirt – tie loosened. It was rather disturbing how attractive the CEO was up close. "And you are?" Atemu feigned a clueless look.

"Kaiba, and you?"

Noisy conversation passed through the crowd around them, the infamous name confirming the handsome face.

"Yami."

Seto matched the other's scrutiny with his own study, detail to detail. Golden blond bangs framed a sharp-featured face, spiked red-highlighted black hair at wild angles brought out darkened crimson eyes lined with... kohl, was it? Yami, as he said his name was, had on a simple black choker, T-shirt, and (with the help of a double take) leather pants. If Seto did not have better faith in his casino, he might have taken the younger man for a prostitute.

"Well, Yami, why don't you stay." It was more a statement than a question, "Let's play."

Atemu narrowed his eyes suspiciously, one hand fingering a hundred-dollar chip, "Why, Kaiba?"

A lovely long-haired woman in normal company attire brought over a stack of chips for her employer. The brunette nodded his acknowledgement.

Seto rested his elbow on the table surface, having rolled up his sleeves, and stared into stony ruby eyes, challenging the other's reputation, "I've heard interesting stories about you, Yami."

The younger man's attention was caught, but he would not let his guard fall, "Oh? Well, I haven't heard a thing about you. Who is that with you?" He nodded toward the woman standing right behind the brunette.

"Secretary."

"Secretary," Atemu repeated, and as if recognition had hit him, his eyes lit up and he rested his chin upon his hand, "You wouldn't be the famous Seto Kaiba I've been hearing so much about, have you?"

"Maybe I would be."

"In that case, let's play."

* * *

"Can I help you?" Katsuya asked hurriedly, not bothering to look up as he mixed drinks.

"Sort of."

With a groan of disbelief, the bartender arranged seven glasses and five martinis on a serving tray, which was promptly whisked away, and started to work on a second waitress's orders.

"_Otogi_," Katsuya finally bit out, between digging for a 1924 wine bottle and washing out a shaker, "Aren't you supposed to be _working?_"

"Jou, really," the dealer replied with a smile, "You are the most uptight person I know."

"Yeah, well," Katsuya strained with the metal contraption, "Sexual frustration and all," he joked as he attempted to yank the cork out of the bottle.

"Honey, can you hurry it up?" the waitress coaxed.

"_Agh_," the blonde grunted to himself, "You stupid fucking bastard..." The cork was not coming out.

With a sigh, Otogi walked behind the counter, "I _know _you need help when you start talking to inanimate objects."

"You don't have a license," Katsuya argued, having shoved the hateful bottle away to work on something else and ended up spilling the soda across the counter due to unsteady hands, "Aw, fuck!" He switched back to pulling at the cork.

"Hmm... I'll settle for a motivational speech then," Otogi took a damp rag and wiped the puddle of liquid from the counter. "Work faster or I'll rape you."

"_Excuse me?_" The bottle came undone with a slow, but sudden, pop. "Wait, no, never mind. I don't want to know. Here." The wine was handed to Otogi, along with a champagne bottle. "I want this in these two glasses," they were placed in front of the dealer, "I want _this_," a quick gesture to the foamy champagne, "- in these flutes," three barely differentiated glasses was set alongside the thin-stemmed wine glasses.

"Right... "

"Can you also fill four of these with ice?"

"Yes, boss."

"And be quiet while you're at it."

"No can do."

"It was worth a shot," Katsuya shrugged, and began to mix a martini, "Why the hell does everyone want a drink tonight?"

"You know that kid?"

"Yami, Yami, Yami," the blonde reiterated with a roll of his eyes, "I _know_ you know his name. I just don't know why you like to refer to him as 'the kid',"

"Well, he _is_ a kid," Otogi finished pouring the liquid with a flourish and opened the ice cache with the cups cradled along his arm, "Well, he got roped into playing Black Jack with Kaiba."

"Oh... which explains...?" Katsuya distributed alcohol into each of the four glasses and finished the martini with an olive dropped into the liquid. The waitress picked up the tray and left with a dutiful swish.

"Why everyone is crowding around Mai's table and drinking. And why I'm here with little to do."

"Mai?" Katsuya ignored the latter sentence, "Not Bakura?"

"Bakura ran out a while back – something about his family."

"Fantastic. Since when does Bakura have a family?"

Otogi shrugged, sucking on an ice cube idly, letting his tongue lap at the surface before popping the frozen water into his mouth.

"You'd better get back to work," Katsuya warned, eyeing the dealer warily.

Otogi replied with an incoherent sentence and a failed attempt of a mischievous grin with an ice cube tucked against his cheek.

"Uh, no," the bartender answered uncertainly with an eyebrow raised.

A frown and a hurt look.

"Uh... sorry...?" Katsuya tried.

"Oh, it's alright," Otogi finally said, the ice cube still large enough to slur his words, but small enough for speech, "We can fuck later."

"_Otogi!_"

"What?" the other replied with a charming smile, "One kiss for the road then."

"What roa—mmn." As usual, Katsuya was cut off as the other kiss him. As Otogi's slightly cold tongue pushed against his lips, Katsuya made the mistake of opening his mouth.

The ice cube slipped into his mouth instead.

Pulling away with surprised haste and spitting the frozen cube into the nearby sink, Katsuya finally glared at the other man, "If you don't disappear from my sight in... oh, about two seconds, you're going to find yourself missing something _very important._"

"Well, you have to admit... it was a new way of swapping spit."

"Oh, _sick_."

Otogi chuckled and kissed Katsuya softly, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'll see you later." With that, the dealer walked out of the lounge into the noisy casino.

* * *

**A/N: **Short chapter. X.x Sorry, I've been trying to get over this writer's block (every time I write, I get sad about my lost documents, so I'd stop. But I feel so much better after writing this chapter, short as it was. I'm excited for next chapter actually.

Review, please, please, please? I think my writing style is getting strange. O.O;

If anyone has SPNMIC's sixteenth chapter (last), please send?

Next chapter: Jou meets Ryou (possible fluff couple). Bakura's going to get back to working, to find Seto and Yami winning too much money – time to get down to real business? Yuugi tracks down his brother's hotel room and – surprise, surprise. I think Anzu needs to be thrown in soon, maybe even Honda.

Plot ideas: A plan to steal money from the casino, a series of murders? I don't know. .


	5. Of Family Ties

**A/N: **… Well, I have no words. I have yet to figure out what the hell I am writing. Then I'll tell you. XP

As for now, I thank all the people who reviewed. I'm glad that this story is at least entertaining a few.

On the incest issue… it was actually a rather equal vote. So does that mean I get to decide? XD

* * *

Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here

Chapter 5: Of Family Ties

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

With his cheek resting against his open palm, Atemu fingered the edge of his glass of water. He could only stand so much of the smoke-filled atmosphere and neon-flashing surroundings, accompanied with loud laughing and socializing. At the same time, he was just waiting to wipe the table with Seto Kaiba.

Unfortunately, it did not look like it would be happening.

Strangely enough, once seated and in the game, the brunette had lapsed into complete silence. His indications during the play were through hand gestures only, and at the end of each game, the CEO would send half of his winnings to Mai Kujaku as a tip, a sum that was much greater than the tacit standard of ten percent. Atemu himself was overly tipping Mai for her service and extra stress – she looked between impassive and anxious, which ended up giving her a rather torn expression across her pretty face.

It had to be hard on her. She was actually losing the casino's money (just several thousand at the moment) to Atemu and Seto. Though, the amount the other players were losing (quite cheerfully, actually) made up some of the difference, Mai was definitely not used to this defensive position.

And still, there was absolutely no suggestion that Seto Kaiba was going to fire her. She was an excellent dealer – it would be his loss. However, even stranger, the businessman kept his eyes on the table, now and then glancing at Atemu. It was enough to make even a rock uncomfortable.

The secretary beside him, paid absolutely no attention to the game, and had pulled out a pocket PC. It looked like she was making notes of some kind, the way she was rapidly writing and tapping the screen. Every twenty or so minutes, she would lean forward and confirm something with Seto, who always never answered but would nod faintly.

_Business, obviously_, Atemu thought to himself, _I'd bet he has a meeting at 10:00 AM, another one at 11:30 AM, and two more before I even get out of bed tomorrow._

"So, Yami… how have you been?" Mai asked, as she shuffled the deck of cards, "You've been preoccupied for awhile now."

Seto, seeing all cards returned to the dealer's hands, relaxed and, with interest, turned to study the young man beside him as Atemu tried to explain his lack of attention.

"I'm fine… I don't think I've ever played Twenty-One for this long," Atemu said with a small laugh, ignoring the awkward stare he kept receiving from the brunette, "By now, I would have listened to Jou rant about – "

As Seto began to tune out, he could not help but think that this was strange. There was not anything particularly special about how Yami played, and Seto was beginning to wonder if it was just by amazing luck that Yami to accomplish the feat of appearing a 'game master'. It was highly unlikely that anyone knew how Seto played for Black Jack.

He simply counted cards.

Calculations that even included probability came easy to him – he was a child prodigy in his day, after all. He knew that Mai was using four sets of cards. With that knowledge, he knew the percent chance of what cards were available. In fact, most of the time, he would use logic. If thirty-two tens, including Jacks, Queens, and Kings were used up in the early point of the set, the chance of getting a ten is lower than if they were used up near the end of the set.

"Mr. Kaiba," Mai suddenly addressed, as she began to pass out the cards for another game, "What brings you to Vegas? It's such a far distance from Japan."

"Check-up," Seto replied smoothly.

"I see," Mai dealt in front of herself two cards, one flipped over, "Doing well, I hope."

"In a way."

_Well, that was a cryptic answer_, Atemu thought with a raised eyebrow. It was rather obviously that the hotel and casino was wildly popular, with its beautiful design, extravagant shops, luxurious pool and spa, exotic gardens, and exciting nightclub and shows. And not that Atemu would ever admit it, especially to the CEO, but he loved his suite and his platinum card. Speaking of which…

Atemu stood up casually, collecting the stack of chips before him. "I'm turning in for tonight, Mai. Tell Bakura I missed him."

Mai looked up with surprise evident, "… Oh, alright…" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice. It was either that she rather enjoyed his company or she did not want to be left alone with Seto Kaiba, who was obviously not a conversationalist. "Have a good night, Yami."

He nodded and turned to meet a narrowed blue stare. At this point, Atemu did not even have the energy to try, but his feelings manifested in his eyes.

_No, I wasn't impressed, Kaiba. I'm going to take your title._

_

* * *

_

"I have a favor to ask, Jou."

The blonde, who was chatting with a group of college girls at his counter, glanced up uninterestedly towards the entrance of the lounge where he heard Bakura's voice.

And had a double take.

Katsuya's amber eyes widened considerably. Clutching onto Bakura's left arm was a younger version of the Black Jack dealer, looking shyly at the bartender with curious dark-brown eyes.

With a gentle tug, Bakura led his little brother to the counter and pointed to an empty stool.

"Sit."

Obediently, Ryou hoisted himself onto the seat. Bakura's mouth twitched to what looked like a smile before it quickly disappeared when he turned back to Katsuya.

"Jou, I need to you to watch my little brother until I finish my shift. Can you do that?"

Katsuya was having a hard time finding his voice. Ryou gave him a tentative smile and waved. The blonde could not help but start to pick out differences between the two brothers. For one thing, Ryou looked a whole lot more approachable than Bakura, who looked just about ready to kill someone twenty-four hours a day.

"Quickly, Jou. I don't have all night," Bakura glared, his hand resting protectively on Ryou's shoulder, not looking quite ready to let go.

"… S-sure," Katsuya looked very uncertain as he glanced over Ryou's young appearance, "… by all means, Bakura, leave him with all this alcohol."

"Better alcohol than Malik." The other replied evenly. Katsuya winced in silent understanding.

With that, Bakura pressed a parting kiss on Ryou's forehead and murmured, "Be safe. I'll be back soon." And he swiftly left.

A giggle scattered through the group of girls, who all ended up exchanging names with Ryou (one even gushing about his beautiful hair and another about how adorable he looked) before they paid for their drinks and exited to gamble.

"Ah, so… I never knew… Bakura had such a… had a little brother," Katsuya started awkwardly, barely covering his slip-up.

Ryou was silent for a minute before saying carefully as he stared at the countertop, "… No one does, I guess…"

The blonde found no words to reply. He was suddenly struck with realization.

"Hey…" Katsuya began softly, reaching out and tilting Ryou's face up to meet his eyes, "Don't be like that. Your brother is not normally open about his family, that's all. He still loves you."

The seventeen-year-old's mouth curved upward faintly but the worried look still resided in his eyes, "I don't want to cause 'Kura trouble. I just wanted to surprise him."

"I'm sure he was ecstatic when he learned that you arrived."

"… Actually… not quite," Ryou fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

"If not under the circumstances," the blonde rephrased, chuckling.

"'Kura's never, ever talked about me?" Ryou asked again, suddenly.

Katsuya pulled away from the other regretfully, and went to clean up the drinks from the previous customers. "No. Thus, everyone has assumed his closest family is the Ishtars."

Ryou resumed his silence in what Katsuya guessed was self-abasement.

"Ryou is your name, isn't it?" Katsuya asked, as he washed the glasses. When he received the affirmative, Katsuya continued, "Ryou, your brother is very closed from the public. No one ever pressed for his life's details – this is Vegas after all."

Ryou stopped fidgeting, "Thanks."

"Do you want anything?" Katsuya offered, trying to break the tension, "Come to think of it, how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

There was a crash from behind the counter, accompanied with Katsuya's "Shit!"

Ryou furrowed his brows in worry, craning his head to survey the mess of broken glass in the sink, "What's wrong?"

"You aren't even legal, are you!" the blonde blinked rapidly at Ryou's face, "My god, I thought you had to be at least eighteen!"

A hurt look crossed Ryou's face, "I'll be eighteen in two months."

"I – damn… I never thought I'd be stuck with an under-aged teenager. In a bar, nonetheless."

"I could leave."

"NO!" Katsuya vehemently exclaimed, "I mean… no… stay… please." The blonde hit his head with the palm of his hand sighed. "I feel stupid."

A quick laugh escaped Ryou, making Katsuya lift his head momentarily to stare. The sound was nice. Seeing he had brought attention to himself, Ryou turned slightly pink.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you, honest! It's… that… I guess… I like you," Ryou amended lamely, turning a deeper pink.

"I like you too," Katsuya replied with a nervous chuckle as he picked up the broken pieces of glass, and attempting a sad job of changing the subject, asked, "So can I get you anything?"

"What does 'Kura get?"

"… Not water, I can assure you."

"'Kura… drinks alcohol?"

Jou gave a boyish grin, "Like a fish."

* * *

Sleep was being vexingly evasive, as Yuugi tossed and turned in boredom on the hotel bed. It was 3:24 AM and Yuugi was too excited to fall asleep.

Heaving a sigh, he righted himself up, sitting at the edge of his bed. Contemplating for a moment, Yuugi changed from his pajamas into his regular clothes. Scribbling a note, he checked his pocket for his cell phone. Right before he left the room, he slipped a room key into his wallet.

He was antsy as he rode the elevator down to the parking lot. He did not want to risk walking through the casino, for the security guards had already accosted him as he curiously watched people gamble when his grandfather was checking into the hotel.

Outside, there was a warm breeze blowing, and his excitement doubled as he cruised the strip. Las Vegas was amazing. Bright lights, sparkling decorations, and colorful flashes dazzled his eyes. From the front of the Sphinx that guarded the front of _Luxor_ hotel, which had a white light shooting straight into the sky from the point of the pyramid, Yuugi could see the hotel, _Mandalay Bay_, in its gold-embossed glory. As he walked, there was _Excalibur_ on his side, and the _Tropicana_ across the street. _Excalibur_, he was excited to visit, with the kings, queens, knights, and entire medieval setting concentrated towards a child's fancy with a floor dedicated to shops and shows and another for games below the casino. _New York – New York_ greeted Yuugi with a roller-coaster that stretched around the sky-scraper emulated hotel and the Statue of Liberty.

However, when he reached _Pharaoh's Palace_, which was a long trek, there was a glittering array of hotels left that looked endless.

Once he entered, Yuugi realized that he had no idea how to track down his brother. His instinct pulled him toward the help center. The woman at the desk stared benevolently at him and asked what she could help him with.

"I'm… sort of looking for my brother. He lives here, but he doesn't know I'm here… uhm…"

"The most I can do is call him in his room…" The woman offered, eyeing the young teen in front of her.

Yuugi beamed, "That would be fantastic! His name is Atemu Mutou."

The woman typed the name into the database and picked up the phone. As she pushed a series of numbers, Yuugi bounced nervously on the balls of his feet. He really hoped Atemu was in.

-

The phone was _loud. _There was no other way to describe it. Well, it could pass for annoying too, having first interrupted his sleep and then his shower later in the same day!

With a towel around his waist, and one hand rubbing a towel into his wet hair, Atemu picked up the offensive object.

"Hello," he stated none-too-happily into the phone.

_"Mr. Mutou. You have a visitor down by the help center asking for you. Your brother perhaps?"_

The phone slipped from Atemu's semi-wet and lax grasp, hitting the bed with a soft muffled thump. He scrambled for it for a moment.

"Yuugi! He – what? I mean… blond-bangs-red-highlights-purple-eyes-little-brother Yuugi!"

There was mild amusement from the other line, _"That certainly sounds like him, Mr. Mutou._"

"… I'll be right down. Thank you."

Atemu hung up and, in his haste, nearly left his room in his current attire. He only skidded to a stop when he realized that the chill was not from the air conditioning, but from his lack of clothes. With a string of grumpy curses, he opted for a hurriedly-buttoned shirt and slacks, because he was in no mood to attempt neither tight nor leather materials at the moment. There was absolutely no chance of getting his hair to its normal state, so Atemu grabbed his key and ran for the elevator.

* * *

"So here's the key for your lovely VIP self," Kisara passed the small paper envelope to Seto with a smile.

"I could have gotten this myself," Seto replied, taking the envelope and pulling out the plastic card and examining the design, "You might as well be my surrogate mother."

"I'm your secretary. I'm supposed to make your life easier."

"Are you planning to tuck me in too?" Seto asked sarcastically as he pressed the up-arrow for the elevator. "I wonder if Mokuba's paying you extra to annoy me."

"So you figured it out," she replied dryly, "I'll see you tomorrow at two."

She had pushed back all the meetings the next day, seeing as Seto was up rather late. Seto replied with a dismissive "Hn." Satisfied, she bowed and left with a "Good night."

A second later, the elevator in front of him gave a cheerful _ding _and the mechanical doors heaved open.

Seto Kaiba found himself face-to-face to a rather damp and tousled Yami.

Atemu blinked as he found himself running into Seto Kaiba for the second time of the night. Though this time was much less desirable.

"Well, if it isn't Yami," Seto said smoothly, recovering first from the astonish, "Why did you run off so quickly?"

Before he could stop his mouth, Atemu replied just as casually while running a hand through his slightly wet hair, "You aren't particularly favorable company."

Seto narrowed his eyes, "Likewise, coward."

Atemu was about to bite back with another nasty comment until he realized just what his real destination was. With a smoldering glare, he walked past the taller brunette, "We'll see about that, _Kaiba_."

"I can't wait," Seto replied, entering the elevator and hitting his floor with more force needed.

-

"Nii-chan!" Yuugi ran to his brother and hugged Atemu tightly once he had approached.

"Does jii-san know you're here?" Atemu demanded, embracing his little brother back, "Where are you staying? _Why are you up so late!_"

Yuugi giggled childishly, "I wrote jii-chan a note. We're staying at Luxor. I couldn't sleep – I was so excited to see you!" Yuugi replied in equally quick succession.

"What a surprise," Atemu noted, "I dropped the phone when I heard you were here."

"Mm… I missed you so much," Yuugi clutched onto his brother tighter. "Why did you have to move all the way out here?"

"Yuugi… you're causing unwanted attention," Atemu laughed softly, "Are you hyper again?" He pulled out of Yuugi's grasp, "Want to see my room?"

"Of course!" Yuugi dropped his voice as he followed Atemu to the elevators, "By the way, you haven't been up to no good, have you?"

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know. I figured you could fill me in," Yuugi replied, shrugging it off, "I bet you got yourself into all sorts of trouble in Las Vegas."

"… Like?"

Atemu did not have to wait long for an elevator to arrive for them. They stepped into it, and Atemu pressed the button for floor thirty-eight.

Yuugi sighed, "Oh, nii-chan, the whole works!"

"I don't know what you are referring to," Atemu gave his little brother a suspicious look.

"Drinking?"

"A little," Atemu admitted.

"Gambling?"

"Sometimes," Atemu chuckled to himself.

"_Sex?_"

At that point, thanks to Yuugi's question and the elevator's stop, Atemu's stomach rolled unpleasantly.

"No!"

"Oh," Yuugi dismissed it quickly, "I figured you ran off to the states to get yourself laid…"

"How old are you, Yuugi?" Atemu admonished, flushing slightly. "That's a horrible question to ask."

Yuugi shrugged, dutifully following his brother to his room, "Maybe it was the coffee on the plane?"

He received a groan from his older brother.

"They let you have coffee? No wonder then."

* * *

"Hey."

Sitting on his bed, Malik glanced at the doorway of his room where his twin was leaning against nonchalantly. As if he was ignoring the other, Malik looked the other way and leaned his head on his propped knees. Light footsteps approached his bed, which then shifted when extra weight was put on it.

"What's wrong?" Mariku asked, settling down beside his brother, "You should be sleeping."

"Can't I just wait up without you bothering me?" Malik snapped angrily, giving Mariku a glare for good measure.

"Are you threatened by Ryou?"

There was a stretch of silence.

"No."

Mariku smiled knowingly. He shifted, moving to sit behind his twin. Wrapping his arms around Malik's waist, Mariku hugged the other reassuringly.

"Good, because you shouldn't be," Mariku replied, playing along with Malik's obvious lie.

"… I don't want to lose him."

"Don't be possessive like that."

"Look who is talking."

Ignoring the retort, Mariku pulled his twin closer, "It's just a visit from his little brother."

"They're really close," Malik argued.

"We're really close."

"No, we aren't."

"Assuming we are."

"But we aren't."

A sigh. Mariku leaned and pressed his lips against the curve of his twin's neck. Pulling away, he leaned up until he could repeat the action behind the other's ear. "And this isn't close?"

"No."

"What is it?"

"It's abnormal."

"We do it all the time," Mariku pointed out, irritated at Malik's ever-so resolved answer.

"It's abnormal," Malik repeated mechanically, staring straight ahead of him.

"Yeah?" Mariku let one hand deliberately trail downward until it was between his twin's slightly opened legs. "That's what you always say."

"Because it's true."

"Then explain this," Mariku pressed his hand against the growing hardness beneath Malik's boxers.

Even though he was not in the position to see it, Mariku knew his twin had closed his eyes in shame. It was always like that. Always – like a unending cycle.

"I can't," Malik's words were half-true, if not half-rehearsed. And with some after thought, Malik added seriously, "I hate you."

"I know you do."

"You hate me too, right?"

"You're incorrigible if that accounts for hate."

Malik paused again before he spoke, "Fuck you."

"No, you mean the other way around."

"What are you going to do about it, Mariku?"

"Many sleepless nights started with that statement," the older twin warned.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?"

* * *

**A/N: **That has got to be… the crappiest thing I have ever written. O.O; I don't know what's wrong with me, but I needed to write _something, _anything. And it resulted in… this. U.U

I'd ask for your opinions… but I don't know if I'm strong enough to take it. TT.TT


	6. What Is Happening?

Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here

Chapter 6: What Is Happening?

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

With Yuugi's tossing and turning, Atemu found that he could not sleep at all. Worried that his little brother was having nightmares or something else unpleasant, Atemu propped himself up against the bed's headboard with a pillow and stared forward at the corner of the television. Now and then his eyes would flicker toward the neon green numbers on the VCR on top of the machine. He knew he needed sleep, especially since his family was here, because he knew he was going to be the unofficial docent. He also knew a few places he wanted to take Yuugi – _Pharaoh's Palace_'s showgirls performance was quite flashy, and if Yuugi was here to ogle at girls, that was the spot, and the hotel's club, _Osiris,_ was another planned stop.

Yuugi rolled over again in his light doze. The seventeen-year-old's face was now centimeters from Atemu's thigh. However, as if sensing his brother, Yuugi stopped and settled, falling into a deep sleep. Atemu smiled in the dark, his hand pulled the blanket up higher and tucking it around Yuugi's smaller shoulders.

Yes, he decided, he rather missed his family. He was lucky that Yuugi had taken the initiative to re-connect. It was nice.

Atemu must have fallen asleep several minutes after listening to Yuugi's even breathing in the silent room, because when he woke up, the clock was four hours ahead of what he remembered seeing. He looked down to see that Yuugi had not moved an inch in his sleep.

Not wanting to wake up Yuugi, Atemu slowly eased himself out of the bed. He quietly left the room and headed to the vending machines. On his way down the hall, a young woman pushing a serving tray walked past him and they exchanged a polite wave and smile.

As Atemu pushed the letter-and-number grid on the machine, he stared confusedly into the array of drinks in the machine before he absently knelt down to take the can of coffee from the chute.

Since when did he have a neighbor of any sort?

For as long as he had been on this floor, he never had a neighbor for more than a two-week period. Once there had been a performer that stayed for about three months, but she had never actually spent a lot of time in her suite.

With mounting curiosity, Atemu walked back, eyeing the woman as she exchanged a few short words with someone presumably standing within the doorway, but Atemu was still a good distance away.

"_So we welcome you back, Kaiba-sama…"_

When he heard the woman's words, Atemu stopped dead in his tracks. He took a few steps back apprehensively.

"_Mr._"

"… _Excuse me, Kaiba-sama?_"

"_I may be Japanese, but we're in America – so act like it._"

The door swung shut, and Atemu winced. The servant blinked, looking unsure about whether to be sufficiently chided or discreetly insulted. The Japanese honorific had been circulated among staff because of Seto Kaiba's Japanese origin, but apparently, he was not too happy about it.

She caught sight of Atemu and smiled weakly, "He's angry, isn't he, Mr. Mutou?"

Atemu lifted his shoulders slightly in a shrug, "I wouldn't know."

Pushing her tray, the woman began to head for the elevators. "Have a good day."

Atemu gave the gold-embossed numbers on the door a narrowed gaze, "Unlikely," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

_Closed. –_ the sign said.

Bakura peered into the dark lounge, his fingers twisting open one of the unlocked glass double doors. Pushing it slowly open, he scanned the area for his brother or Katsuya.

His eyes fell upon the two said people. The day had taken its toll on both. Katsuya, having changed into his usual street clothing seemed to be dozing heavily, sitting upright on one of the couches around the edge of the room near the stage and away from the tables. A vein pulsed in Bakura's head as he found his little brother sleeping soundly on the blonde's shoulder, leaning securely against the other.

Bakura approached them and carefully balanced himself by lightly supporting himself on Katsuya's free shoulder. Leaning inward until his mouth was centimeters from the other's ear, Bakura hissed, "_Jou_!"

Nearly having a heart attack from the warm feeling against his ear, Katsuya woke up with a start. Immediately, both glanced at Ryou, who did nothing more than loll further into the curve of the blonde's neck. Katsuya lifted a hand to steady Ryou, before yawning and staring at the older brother blearily.

"Bakura, 'bout time you finished working," Katsuya joked softly, a little too dazed to notice Bakura's grip on his shoulder tightening.

"… Good point, I admit," Bakura acquiesced atypically, pushing himself away from Katsuya and moving over to Ryou. Studying his younger brother's peaceful expression, Bakura brushed back the other's ivory strands thoughtfully.

Silence infiltrated the room, and Katsuya shifted awkwardly.

"Thank you," Bakura finally said after the pregnant pause.

Surprised, Katsuya stared at the dealer speechlessly. The world was coming to an end.

Paying no attention to the blonde, Bakura gently shook his brother's shoulder, "Ryou… it's time to go home… Ryou…"

Katsuya raised an eyebrow. Strange, the boy wasn't waking up.

Bakura gave a tired sigh. With one hand, he cupped his brother's sleeping face and pressed a kiss against Ryou's temple, "_Ryou_… wake up, please."

No, _now _the world was coming to an end. Katsuya stared at Bakura in disbelief. Sure, it was rude to stare, but with something this uncharacteristic, Katsuya could not help his baffled expression.

Bakura shrugged absently at Katsuya's inquisitive look, and whispered, "That's the only way I can wake him up."

With a muffled moan, the seventeen-year-old made a sleepy utterance that sounded much like a refusal. Another sigh escaped Bakura, who finally succumbed, bending down and gathering his brother into his arms. Ryou immediately settled comfortably against his brother and fell instantly back asleep.

Katsuya's face broke into a wide grin. "… I never knew…"

Suspicious, Bakura glared back. "Don't even think about saying it"

* * *

With all the lights, it was impossible to see stars, as expected, but Mai always found it a little peculiar that one could barely distinguish the beginning of dawn. There was something about the touches of pink and orange of a sunrise that appealed to her. However, there was also something about the flamboyant rainbow of artificial lights that Las Vegas was composed of, that Mai had to pardon it for the missing daybreak.

Stepping out of the casino, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to ease the stiffness in her body. She pushed her interlocked fingers above her head in a stretch and caught a sight of a brunette with a bag slung across straightened shoulders strolling past her.

"Anzu Mazaki! Is that you?" Mai flicked a long golden strand from her tired eyes.

The young woman in question paused in her walk and tilted her head back towards Mai. The straw in the brunette's bottle of who-knows-what swiveled as she turned completely to face the blonde dealer.

"Mai! I haven't seen you in… wow… quite a long time," Anzu's energetic eyes glittered amicably and she beamed, "You still look fantastic!"

Mai laughed softly, "Thanks, but your schedule is still full, huh? Rushing off to practice this early in the morning, it looks like." She gestured to the lightly packed _P.P.DANCE _bag that swung absently in Anzu's hands now.

"No, not as bad. I wanted to get a few extra hours by myself this morning before practice, actually," the dancer said with a slight blush in her face, "If I work hard, I can get a solo for the next season."

"An extra two pounds of feathers are added onto your headdress?"

Both women shared a laugh, and still giggling, Anzu answered while ruefully rubbing her 'sore' neck, "Something like that!" A small pause of silence and Anzu looked confusedly at her friend, "… Don't tell me you just got out of work…"

"Does it show much?" Mai muttered, running her hand through her tangled hair, "Haven't you heard --?"

"Oh. Yes, I have," Anzu interrupted with a grimace, "No more, please. Our coach has already manifested the presence of S.K."

"I barely spent an hour with him and I had never lost so much of the casino's money before," Mai added."

"… You're kidding," Anzu's eyes widened, "You? As in Mai Kujaku, you?"

"Yami was there, actually," Mai recalled suddenly, "Oh, now I don't feel so bad anymore."

Anzu laughed again, "I guess that explains it. How is he?"

"Same as always. The casino loses thousands to him a month, honestly."

"I meant health-wise."

"Same, but he was a bit out of it last night… maybe he's finally catching something."

Anzu sipped thoughtfully at the energy drink (well, it sure looked like it to Mai, but then again – dancers drank odd concoctions), "Maybe he's getting bored of the Vegas scene."

"It's a thought. But he probably loves this city as much as we all do."

"Mmm… _oh! _I really need to get going! Hey! If I get the solo, you guys want tickets? Oh, I'll get them anyway!"

Anzu took off with a good-humored laugh, obviously planning to go around the casino to the back to get in, and with a wave, she disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Mariku was stripping the sheets from his twin's bed when he heard a continuous stream of dull kicks against the front door.

"_Shit._"

With a violent tug, he balled up the stained pieces of bedding and padded down the hallway.

As he wrenched open the door, Mariku blinked absently as Bakura carefully eased himself and his sleeping brother through the entrance; though only a real close friend could depict what Bakura was muttering about under his breath - curses, no doubt. Mariku smirked.

The casino dealer shot the blonde a dangerous look. Mariku stared back, undeterred.

"Need help?" The Egyptian held out his arms before he realized one arm still held the sheets cradled against his hip.

"A little late to be doing laundry, hm?" Bakura retorted, his own expression turning into one of amusement and mockery.

Mariku watched the other disappear into his respective room with his precious bundle, and with a shrug of indifference, the blonde directed himself into the small room with the washing machine and dryer.

With practiced ease, he shoved the offending material in the machine and began to fiddle with the knobs. A minute later, Mariku picked up the familiar steps of Bakura approaching behind him.

There was a stretch of silence. It was not exactly awkward, but it certainly was not comfortable either.

"… I didn't know you had someone over tonight," Bakura edged in nonchalantly, conversing to Mariku's back and noting how the other tensed slightly.

"Neither did I," Mariku replied good-naturally, turning around and giving the younger man a small grin, and, with skill from years of practice, changed the subject to an even more precarious one, "How is your little brother?" The blonde casually leaned his back against the washer and crossed his arms. He saw Bakura's jaw tighten.

"Fine," Bakura answered truthfully, "Though I'd like another word with Malik."

"Hn. Don't we all," Mariku replied impassively, "But my other self is out like a light right now."

"I know."

"You know? Then why inform me that you want to talk to him?"

Bakura shrugged and pulled out the hair tie securing his hair in a low ponytail behind his head; he would occasionally wear it like this while dealing just to keep it out of his face, "I guess I wanted to see if you had anything to in his defense, seeing as he's your brother – twin – anyway."

"I don't have your unhealthy affinity to my sibling," Mariku interjected snidely.

"Unhealthy, huh? Pray tell, Mariku - Why is Malik in your bed then?" Bakura asked curtly.

Caught of guard, Mariku quickly ran through his options. Certainly the He-can't-sleep-on-a-sheet-less-bed argument was already missing one too many parts of explanation and the I-needed-to-get-rid-of-evidence was going to work even worse, so Mariku was going to opt for something more peculiar when he was saved by an interruption.

"'Kura?"

"Ryou!" Bakura nearly jumped from sheer surprise as his little brother silently appeared right behind him, "…Why are you awake?" the older brother finished lamely.

The young teenager stared worriedly into the other's preoccupied face, "I just am and I didn't know where I was. It was… sort of scary alone."

"I'm sorry," the other replied immediately without a second thought, "I… Here, let's go, okay? It's about time I get some sleep too."

As the two left, Mariku pivoted and released a breath that he did not know he was holding. And as Bakura led his brother back to his room, he eyed his blonde roommate suspiciously before shutting the bedroom door behind him.

* * *

"_Really, nii-san. I'm really worried about you._"

Seto sighed as he stopped plugging in values to be calculated on the spreadsheet, "I don't see why."

"_First, you suggest working me too hard – that's downright odd; then you space out while on the telephone with me – that's weird **and **mean, and all at the same time, you're scaring staff members right and left by always **yelling** at them! Oh, wait… that's normal,_" Mokuba snickered over the telephone, "_But really, nii-san…_"

"That's enough, Mokuba. Don't you have work to do or something?" Seto responded, becoming easily irritated because he had been unable to sleep the night before due to incessant thinking.

His brother switched tactics, "_So, Seto-o…_"

The brunette narrowed his eyes and turned his chair away from his laptop. Deciding that it was absolutely pointless trying to get any work done with his brother on the line, Seto moved to the large window that overlooked the Las Vegas strip. He also felt unnerved at Mokuba's tone of voice. That particular warbled version of his first name usually meant Mokuba was planning to get something of personal worth.

"_How's the gambling?_"

That was innocent enough. He could answer that.

"Not as bad as I imagined. I met someone who – "

"_A-ahh-HAH!_"

Oh, shit. It was Mokuba's infamous maneuver that led Seto into false security.

"_He or she? Come on, come on! Time waits for no man – especially **me**!_"

A sigh of defeat escaped from the CEO. He might as well indulge his little brother, seeing as the twenty-year-old (going-on-twelve, honestly) had his own ways of getting back at his big brother.

"He."

"_Ooo-O--"_

"**Who**," Seto cut in bluntly, "- is a suspicious character who has unreasonably good luck."

"… _Ooo-kay. I knew you would describe your current crush as a convict. It's no wonder you're still single,_" Mokuba gave a self-suffering sigh dramatically, "_Poor, poor nii-san is going to be an old bachelor for the rest of his life._"

"Mokuba!" Seto was not amused. Not by the least.

"_Here, this is my translation: 'He, who is an intriguing character that challenges my gambling skills._"

Seto was struck speechless. That was actually… almost… nearly…

"_Yeah? Was I right, or was I right?_" Mokuba's smug tone permeated through the background buzz in Kaiba Corporation, Japan. "_**Damn**, I'm good."_

"… I'm hanging up."

"_Mou-!_ _I'll spam your email! I WIL—_"

Seto nearly threw his phone into the trashcan.

* * *

When Yuugi had woken up and eaten (lunch, as of how late he had slept), he and his brother left _Pharaoh's Palace _to go to _Luxor _to check if their grandfather was still sleeping, seeing as Sugoroku had not picked up his phone.

Yuugi broke a large chocolate-chip cookie in half and stuck one portion between Atemu's lips, "Ne, nii-chan…"

The twenty-two-year-old gave his younger brother half a smile around the sweet before taking it by hand and taking a bite, "Yes, Yuugi?"

As Yuugi warily eyed dirty advertisements littered on the sidewalk and plastered against street lamps, he commented, "It looks like you've gotten really comfortable with this place," referring to the waitresses that nearly jumped the pair at the restaurant they went to for lunch.

_-_

_"Oh! Yami! Who is this cutie?" the pretty waitress exclaimed over her notepad, peering at Yuugi's face with genuine interest._

"_My little brother," Atemu answered, nodding slightly at Yuugi, who flushed slightly and stared at the menu before him. Atemu, in turn, nudged Yuugi's calf with his foot beneath the table._

_Yuugi looked mortified at the prospect of actually speaking to the female, who beamed at his shy movements._

"_Not quite the chatterbox, I see," the waitress laughed, "What's your name, sweetheart?"_

_Atemu looked expectantly at Yuugi, who looked like he was gathering his courage._

"_I'm Yuugi Mutou," he finally said, his voice low but even, "… It's a pleasure to meet you." _

"_Oo-o! You're absolutely adorable! I'm sorry, Yami, but I'm going to have to take him home with me – no harm done, right?"_

_Atemu smiled lightly, resting his head on his palm as he propped his elbow on the table, "Well, he probably won't mind going home with you."_

_Yuugi pouted, "Nii-chan! Please!"_

"_So, Yuugi, I get off in an hour," the waitress teased, "You want to meet me somewhere?"_

_A red blush spread across the bridge of Yuugi's nose._

_A passing waitress stopped by the table quickly, "Hey, Yami! Nice to see you again! … Who is this?"_

_The awestruck teen leaned slightly over the table to his older brother, "Is… is she t-talking to me too?" He looked extremely worried again._

_Atemu dared to look amused at Yuugi's discomfort; Yuugi dropped back into his seat and frowned at his brother._

"_He's my little brother Yuugi," Atemu answered instead, knowing the woman had to get back to work. She nodded and left swiftly._

_The first waitress picked up her pen and perked up attentively, "So what can I get you?"_

_-_

Atemu chuckled, "Yes, I suppose I have."

The pair turned right around the Sphinx and continued to the hotel.

"It seems so fun," Yuugi mused, "I want to live here."

"No," Atemu responded instantly, "You're going to college."

His little brother stifled a sigh, and took the moment to finish the cookie. Atemu looked down at the similar crown of tri-colored hair with worry.

"What's going on with school, Yuugi?" he demanded, stopping the teenager.

Yuugi's violet eyes wandered aimlessly away from Atemu's searching gaze, "Nothing much."

"Then why not go to the university?"

"I'm not the smartest person, nii-chan," Yuugi said, looking injured at the insistent tone in the other's voice, "I don't want to waste so much money on –"

Atemu frowned and knelt down to where Yuugi was observing the ground. He gently encircled his brother's face with his hands and spoke firmly, "Money. Is. Not. An. Issue."

Yuugi bent forward and embraced Atemu, but had no response to the subject, "Let's go see jii-chan."

As they entered the casino, Yuugi excused himself to the bathroom. Watching his little brother disappear into the public restroom, Atemu turned to look around the casino. His sight sharpened on the slot machines just dozens of feet away. As he reached into his pocket for change, Atemu dropped himself onto the seat and stared wearily into the face of the flashing machine.

_Because I do this for you, Yuugi._

And as Yuugi exited the bathroom, his eyes followed the loud, heavy sound of coins flooding down a chute.

Atemu looked up from the coin-spitting machine with a tired smile for his brother, "Dinner's on me, Yuugi."

* * *

By evening, Malik was grumpy as he counted the minutes to the end of his shift. Not only was he tired, he was also horribly _sore_, in the worst way possible too. He spent the entire day trying to cover the obvious limp. And between moving back and forth to get different bottles and doing dramatic drink-preparations for eager customers, the Egyptian was impressed he had not passed out from the irksome pain.

When he finally spotted Katsuya entering the lounge for his shift, thankfully dressed for work already, Malik nearly smiled. _Nearly._

With the cheerful blonde came the one person Malik was avoiding and the said little brother. Malik narrowed his eyes and ripped off the apron he had donned to hand wash some dozen glasses, seeing as the dishwasher was full.

"You're _late_," Malik said with a glare, avoiding Bakura's scrutiny.

"Aw, I'm sorry," Jou answered sheepishly, "I got so caught up with Ryou here and –"

"Is it that much of a problem?" Bakura interrupted, his eyes locked on Malik.

"Hn," Malik turned sharply to go into the other room and change, but stumbled from a stab of pain. Wincing, he yanked open the door and slammed it behind him, his hand pulling off his jacket while the other scrambled to undo the tie around his neck. Behind the door, it sounded like Jou had started to rinse the glasses in the sink.

Once changed, Malik stepped out gingerly, decided it was rash to try to hurry when all he would end up doing is tripping or limping.

"Have a good night, Malik," Jou offered, waving a sudsy hand, "Again, I'm sorry for being late."

"Mm," was the most polite response Malik could give as he padded softly to the exit.

Bakura stared suspiciously at the Egyptian before sitting Ryou down and following behind Malik.

Once outside behind the building, Bakura grabbed Malik's wrist and held on firmly, "What's wrong?" he demanded, eyes glinting harshly as he searched the other's face.

"_Hey!_ What's the big idea, Bakura!" Malik retorted, trying to free himself but instead found himself pushed back into the wall, Bakura's other hand pinning him there by the shoulder, "Let me _go_! What's the meaning of this!"

Malik panicked as the other leaned in, his lavender eyes darting from the hand on his shoulder to the other pressed against the wall beside his head.

Bakura narrowed his eyes, "You're _avoiding_ me."

"_No, _I'm not," Malik denied, the lie rolling off his tongue easily. He reached up to push away the grip on his shoulder, which held unyielding.

Suddenly, the other released Malik and backed up, turning to look away from the Egyptian and into empty space, "So… what are you going to do now?" Bakura asked coolly.

"I'm going home," Malik answered, quivering as he stepped away from the wall.

"Is Mariku home?" the dealer asked absently, looking at the watch on his left wrist.

"How should I know?" Malik exploded, almost throwing a temper tantrum, "Bakura! What's wrong with you today!"

Bakura ran a hand through his lengthy ivory strands; it was growing cold and a breeze blew against his expressionless face, "I'm sorry."

Frustration melted into confusion.

"… What? Why?" Malik asked helplessly.

"You're limping," Bakura stated obviously, approaching Malik and encircling the other in a familiar embrace.

"Oh, that's not your fault," Malik brushed it off mindlessly, too shrouded in relief that Bakura had reverted back to a less threatening manner.

"Really."

It was not a question, but more of a cold statement. Malik's eyes widened as he realized his mistake.

"Wait, no! No! That's not what I mea –"

"I need to get to work," Bakura responded bitterly, shoving away from the other even though they both knew his shift started in a good half an hour.

"_Bakura_!"

The exit door slammed behind the retreating dealer with a betrayed thud.

* * *

Dinner had been uneventful, seeing as his grandfather was having a hard time battling jet lag and how the time change was even affecting Yuugi. Yuugi promised to stay up tomorrow night with his brother, so Atemu decided to pay _Osiris'_ bouncer a visit.

There was a reasonably long line waiting to get into the club, so Atemu took to the second empty line marked for VIP guests.

The towering blond bouncer glanced down at him before nodding, the shades covering slate-blue eyes, "Go right ahead, Yami."

Atemu grinned cheekily, "Thanks, Raphael, but I really had a question to ask you."

The built man kept silent, and Atemu continued, "How old do you have to be to come here, because I wanted to bring my little brother who came to visit me from Japan."

"Eighteen. Twenty-one to drink, though…"

Atemu snickered, "Yeah, Varon didn't even card me the first time… but Yuugi's seventeen…"

"I couldn't, Yami," Raphael replied, not quite sympathetic, as he took an ID from the impatient person at the front of the line and examined the picture to the real face carefully, before letting him in after cash was in his hand.

"Oh…" Atemu was crestfallen. He really did want Yuugi to come to _Osiris_ and have some fun, "Thanks then." Atemu turned around to leave when Raphael's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"You're not coming in?"

"Uhm…" the petite gambler looked doubtful.

"Everyone's missed you," the bouncer responded gruffly, his brows knitting deeper, making Raphael look more angry than sentimental.

"No wonder you work here," Atemu laughed softly, before dodging behind the bouncer, "Oh, I'll stop by for a bit then." He pulled open one of the double doors and slipped through into the dark room full of flashing wayward lights.

-

Entering _Orisis_ was always like entering a new world full of strange, new things and people. Amongst the obvious things such as the poles on stage and cages on the wall, there was the dance floor full of excitement generated from moving bodies. Ever-changing lights moved to match the heart-pumping bass of loud music.

He headed toward the bar, where he spotted a familiar mop of fluffy brown hair behind the counter. However a dainty hand stopped him as it rubbed his shoulder.

"Ya-ami!"

Atemu turned to see a beautiful young Chinese woman leaning towards him. She would have planted a kiss right on his mouth if he had not turned in time for it to miss and land on his cheek. She pouted and flipped a strand of her jet-black hair over her shoulder. Her serving tray tilted dangerously, and Atemu reached and steadied it carefully.

"Hello, Vivian," he gave a small smile, "How've you been?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Yami! Where have you been?" she chided, her free hand propped on her curvy waist.

"Around," Atemu shrugged, "Shouldn't you…?"

"Oh! That's right!" she began to maneuver her way through the tables to deliver the drinks, "Talk to you later, Yami!"

He made it safely to the bar and waved for the bartender's attention. Crystal-clear blue eyes lit up as Varon caught sight of him.

"Hey, Yami! … Jou's not with you tonight?" Varon greeted, looking slightly disappointed.

"Change in schedule. Mai too," Atemu explained, "Give me something alcoholic that you can light on fire for me."

Varon laughed, "That's about all I can do, Yami." And with that said, he set dry ice at the bottom of a large cup (nearly bowl) and, with three bottles and two set aside, he doused the ice with a large amount of three types of vodka, set it on fire with a flourish, and added a fraction of liquid from the other bottles.

Atemu's crimson eyes danced before the blazing concoction, "What is this?"

"You want the truth?" Varon almost snickered, "I don't know."

He dropped a cover over the drink to quell the fire, and the drink was left smoking with fog from the dry ice at the bottom.

"Pfft," Atemu teased, taking a sip from a straw, "What if I die?" he let the drink roll around in his mouth before swallowing, "… This is a rather fruity drink, Varon."

Varon raised an eyebrow and went to fiddle with the bottles he had just used, "Cherry vodka, vodka… lemon, lime, pink lemonade, strawberry…"

"Fuck, just toss me a pineapple and mini-umbrella while you're at it," Atemu mumbled around the straw, contented to slowly draining the large drink.

The bartender shrugged and stacked the bottles back where he got them, "You might want to take it easy there, Yami…" It was rather obvious that Atemu could not tolerate too much alcohol, seeing as he was so... well, _small._

"Shut up and let me drink in peace," Atemu closed his eyes and fingered the edge of the cup, humming softly to himself as he sucked at the straw.

Only moments later, Atemu heard - "Oh, fuck. Vivian's found another victim to her adoration." He opened a crimson eye to Varon gesturing at the beautiful woman who was bending over to give another customer a kiss when the said customer's hand shot out and blocked her mouth. She ended up kissing his fingers.

Atemu would have closed his eyes again, but at that moment, he had emptied his drink.

"Oh, fu-uck," he drawled, tapping his fingers against the counter.

He swiveled in his chair as he saw Vivian approach, looking half-elated and half-rejected. Strange combination. Behind her still seated at the table, a man with a pair of memorable ice-blue eyes widened in surprise. Atemu blinked through a wavering vision.

Either that was Seto Kaiba or the vodka was really getting to him.

"You okay, Yami?" Vivian asked, snapping her manicured fingers before his unblinking ruby eyes.

"… Is that…?"

The Asian looked over her shoulder, "Oh, him? That's Seto Kaiba! Really hot, isn't he?" her lower lip stuck out childishly, "Though he's a little antisocial for my standards."

"He's an asshole," Atemu said with a silly grin, as he twirled the straw around between his fingers.

"You go tell him, Yami," Varon suggested with a mischievous smile that Atemu completely missed, "He looks like he needs company anyway."

Atemu got to his feet and wobbled. Whoa. He looked back at Varon, who stared back innocently.

"You know, I think I figured out why Jou likes you so much," Atemu mused, "By the way, Vivian… can you bring me something to drink in a few minutes – you know… just in case I need to pass out."

-

Seto had been watching the girl onstage drop herself upside down against a pole wrapped firmly between her legs when Atemu slid into the seat before him.

"Hello, Kaiba," he greeted amiably, "Fancy meeting you here."

The CEO set down his martini glass, "How much did you drink?" he asked bluntly.

The smaller man blinked, as if not comprehending the nature of the question, "Not much." He reached for the other's drink.

"You can barely stand," Seto pointed out, one hand covering Atemu's wandering hand, as if in a loving gesture, and the other pulling the martini away.

He watched the younger man pout, and just to be safe, Seto drained his glass. Atemu watched the clear liquid slide swiftly from the smooth glass into the brunette's mouth and then the movement of Seto's throat as he swallowed. After swallowing, Seto inattentively licked his lips before replacing the glass back onto the table. He noticed the glassy stare from the one sitting before him.

"Yami…" Seto waved a hand before the other's eyes, snapping Atemu out of staring mindlessly into the CEO's face. "You've had enough."

"It was one drink," Atemu managed, using his free hand to prop up his chin in a defiant manner; his other hand was still trapped beneath Seto's.

"Yes, about the size of a melon," Seto offered logically, finding this conversation and situation almost surreal. Apparently, both were more tolerable with alcohol in their systems.

Atemu scowled, but his expression cleared thoughtfully, "You were watching me?"

"Not quite," Seto responded with a raised eyebrow, "Don't be so egotistical. I merely glanced at what you were having." He removed his hand to wave it towards the Chinese server.

"Me? Egotistical?" Atemu lifted up his now-warm hand to point his finger right at Seto's face, "And you're an asshole."

The brunette was unfazed with the insult. He actually found it much more amusing than it was hurtful. Vivian stopped by the table and picked up the empty glass. Seto shook his head to her offer to get more. However, Vivian set down what looked like a Screwdriver in front of Atemu, whose eyes lit up like Christmas had come early.

Seto wanted to stop her, but she walked away quickly. He decided to take matters into his own hands. He pulled the drink towards him – that horrible watery orange solution – and with both hands, clamped down on Atemu's wrists, seeing as the other man was reaching for the drink.

The now-immobilized young man snorted indignantly, his beautifully hazy eyes trained on Seto's darkened blue eyes, "I'll help you remove that stick up your ass if you let me have my fucking drink, Kaiba."

Seto felt a laugh swell inside him, but it came out quickly before he could swallow it.. Atemu stared curiously at him before growing irritated. Who was Seto Kaiba to laugh at him _and _take his drink?

"Kaiba, you fucking prick! Let me go or else I'll…"

The other even dared to look interested in Atemu's threat. Seto took the glass and observed the contents before taking a sip. The drink was not half bad if one could tolerate vodka.

"Damn you! I'm going to take that stick and beat you over the head with it!" Atemu cursed, using his one freed hand to grope for the glass.

"Yami."

Atemu's movements stilled when Seto placed the drink down and reached over the small table, taking the other's face in his hands. As warm palms pressed gently against the curve of his cheeks, Atemu flushed. _What the hell is Kaiba doing?_

"What?" he snapped tersely.

"Yami," Seto repeated calmly, and Atemu was finding himself calming down by just the mere sound of the other's deep soothing baritone.

"What is it?" he responded, sounding a little more like his usual self.

"Are you listening to yourself?" the CEO asked, almost smugly, "You're drunk."

"So what if I am?" Atemu decided with a minute smirk as he pulled away from the other, "I have nowhere to go but my room tonight."

The brunette paused, turning over this piece of information in his mind, "So to think if I weren't here watching over your drunken self, only hell knows what trouble you would have gotten into."

Atemu's smile widened over the glass that he now held in his hands. Pressing his lips to the rim, he tilted the glass back and let more alcohol into his system. He heard Seto make a muffled noise of alarm for neglecting the drink. Licking his lips, Atemu once against flashed a disarming smile at Seto.

"Are you planning to watch over me _all night,_ Kaiba?"

Blue eyes flickered with slight surprise before the emotion disappeared.

"Because if you are," Atemu continued, taking another sip of the tangy-orange vodka drink thoughtfully, "I'll have to pull down the extra pillows."

"Don't count on it, Yami," Seto responded and dropped a couple large bills on the table, getting to his feet and tugging at Atemu's elbow, "Come on, we're going to get you to bed."

"Are we now?" Atemu queried innocently, following the other's lead and letting himself be pushed to the exit, "Are _we _going to have a friendly fuck too?"

"_We_," came the clenched reply as they stepped out of the club and walked (Atemu more stumbled) to the elevators, "- would rather have you sober."

Atemu laughed, and they entered the elevator. He stabbed the button for floor thirty-eight with unnecessary hostility. "Kaiba, you can have me anytime you want, m'kay?"

The elevator creaked slowly upwards, sending an unstable Atemu wobbling to one side. Automatically, Seto's arm shot out and wrapped around the other's slim waist.

"Really. I might take you up on that offer, Yami," the CEO informed casually, as if holding the other was an everyday occurrence.

"Yeah?" came the ever-clever response.

The elevator opened and Atemu traipsed out with Seto following behind, ready for catching a fall.

"Guess I'll see you later," the younger man said mournfully, pulling out the flat plastic key for his room, "You aren't so bad, really."

"The same applies to you," the brunette replied amused as he watched the other rake slender fingers through the red highlights in his hair with a sigh, "We must play sometime."

Atemu laughed again, "It almost sounds dirty when you say it, Kaiba!" He continued to miss the small slit with the key, "Fuck."

Seto's hand covered his and slowly slid the key into the slot, pulling it out leisurely. The green light above the handle flashed at Atemu happily. He grinned in response. He turned to thank the CEO when his nose brushed the fabric of the other's shirt. Since when did the distance between them disappear?

Remember that one statement about Seto Kaiba being gorgeous up close? What an understatement.

"Uhm… thanks, Kaiba," Atemu had to look upward to catch the other's eye, before looking back down.

Seto ended up leaning over him slightly to open the door for him. Atemu looked at him with confusion.

"We don't want to unlock it again, do we?" Seto explained, nudging the other inside, "Go on. Get to bed."

Atemu smiled and rubbed his eyes. What a gentleman underneath all that exterior shit. "Alright. Thank you again." He stepped into the doorway, his body keeping the door from shutting by itself. "Uhm…"

"Something else you need?" the brunette smirked at the tiny innuendo.

"… I guess," Atemu trembled slightly before he stepped away from the door.

With one hand placed on Seto's shoulder to keep his balance, Atemu stepped up on the balls of his feet swiftly and pressed his lips against Seto's mouth. Behind him, the door slammed shut again, knocking Atemu back into reality.

"_Fuck!_ Oh my god – !" the twenty-two year old realized what he had just done and turned swiftly, fumbling with the key again and praying to any deity listening to help him open the door – _FAST._

"_Yami…!"_

Luck was with him, and the key slid in effortlessly and he yanked it out, simultaneously yanking the door handle down to open the door. With a few more violent curses, he ran into his room and shoved the door close behind him, even though the hinges helped his cause greatly.

"_That's not my name, Kaiba!_"

* * *

**A/N: **I tried really, really hard… X.x

Beta-ed by Futago no Seishi! Read her fics - they make mine look like trash. XP

**Review, please?**


	7. Why Don't You Just Die?

**A/N: **Are you confused? 'Cause I am. XD

http/ www. deviantart. com/ view/ 31435536/ Inspired by this fic… an older Mokuba! Just take out the spaces. XP

* * *

Whatever Happens Here, Stays Here

Chapter 7: Why Don't You Just Die?

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

_That's not my name, Kaiba!_

… _Not my name…_

The phrase echoed in Seto's mind, and though confused, his eyes narrowed in anger. He pounded on the door several times, "What the hell are you saying, Ya--" The CEO hesitated, but decided there was no other way but to use the only name he knew. "_Yami?_"

Behind the thick oak door, the vague sound of a shower spray turning on was registered.

"Damn it!" Seto cursed, pulling out his cell phone in a fit of childlike indignation. With his fist still clenched against the flat surface of the door, he held the ringing phone to his ear.

"… _Kaiba-sa--_"

"Kisara. I want a key to room three-eight…"

"…_A key?_" She interrupted senselessly, "_You lost your key to your room, and you are calling me… why?_"

Slowly, sense began to settle on Seto, and he stepped quickly away from Atemu's door, "… Never mind, Kisara." Seto winced at how peculiar it would have been if he were to ask for a key to another room, one occupied to that extent too.

He finally glanced at the digital numbers on his phone, and with a second thought, added, "I'm sorry to have bothered you." He had woken his secretary up in the middle of the night.

"… _Is something…?_"

"Nothing."

"… _Oh, hnn…_" came an uncharacteristic disbelieving noise over the line. There was a rustle of static and curse mutterings, as it sounded like Kisara sat up from her bed. "_What happened?_"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep." He hung up on Kisara's demand of what was going on.

The brunette stood before the door for another calculating moment before turning away. This was nothing a little computer work couldn't solve.

-

"Yami… Yami…" Seto muttered to himself, slowly working his way through the complexity of the hotel and casino's electronic system. The progress was almost at a snail's pace, but he was impressed. The security around all the private information was nearly solid (though he was in no mood to have to break it all down).

At the fourth electronic firewall, Seto was at his patience's limit. He reached for his phone and dialed for the main office.

"Connect me to the electronics securities technician _now,_"he snarled into the phone.

"_Yes, sir._"

Three seconds later, an extremely peeved voice came through the line, "_Who is this? What do you want? _Do you know what time it is?"

Seto snarled right back, "Is there is reason why I can't get through to fifty percent of the information?"

"… _Fifty percent, you say?_" There was typing in the background. "_Hah, I should have known you were a Kaiba._"

Seto's voice turned deadly, "Excuse me…?" The phrase left no option except explanation.

The technician giggled, and Seto was taken aback. He was so frustrated he did not even realize the other was a _female._

"What is your name?" he asked finally, stopping the other's amusement.

"_Hopkins. Rebecca Hopkins._"

Suddenly it all made sense. Rebecca Hopkins was an internationally known tech genius. In fact, Seto narrowed his eyes, she was a child prodigy… and if he knew his information correctly, right now, she was around… fourteen.

"_You'd think the CEO would pay attention to all those reports that are sent to Japan daily and all_," Rebecca added, "_But… fifty percent! Hell, I better get crackin' on some new codes._"

"You better have a fucking brilliant reason why the fucking CEO of this entire business can't even get to the information he needs," Seto warned, his hand clenching his phone in a death grip.

"_Calm down_," Rebecca replied before she paused to yawn, "_What the hell do you need that requires breaking down all my security?_"

"That's none of your business," Seto replied bitterly.

"_Oh-ho_," Rebecca replied just as coldly, "_I think it would be. I'm in for any illegal business you're planning. Hell, I work for you, remember? Confidentiality and shit._"

"You have quite a mouth for a fourteen year old."

"_Yeah, well, freedom of fucking speech and all,_" Rebecca's sarcasm was so evident Seto could just imagine the smirk on her face.

"… What happened to what I had written?" Seto finally asked.

"_I re-wrote it all_," Rebecca answered matter-of-factly, "_We told you, but you never responded. It was during the period that you were flooded with all the new responsibilities of being a Vegas hotel and casino owner, 'member? Well, obviously not._"

"… I see."

"_What can I do for you, Kaiba?_" Rebecca asked chirpily, "_Hey, look what I can do!_"

Seto's own laptop began to exit the sections he had managed to open before the screen was divided into six colored video shots.

"_Wave, Mr. CEO. You're on candid camera._"

Seto groaned, dropping his hand into his head. The six tiny figures on his laptop did the same.

"Hopkins--"

"_Call me Rebecca._"

He felt a sudden surge of older-brother-defeat.

"Right… Rebecca, I need you to give my computer access to everything in our system."

"_Why?_"

"Do you have to ask?"

"_No, but I want to know_," came her cheeky reply.

"… I sort of want to find out something about someone," Seto admitted carefully.

"_Too vague_," Rebecca replied with boredom lacing her simple words. Yet, she began to break down the walls that were keeping Seto's personal laptop from getting to the information.

Normally they weren't there (if the CEO had ever needed anything, he could get it directly from Kaiba Corporation, Japan) but she had heard the man was in Las Vegas and decided to see just how brilliant Seto Kaiba _really _was.

He wasn't bad at all, really. Rebecca had to give him credit for getting past a lot of her codes within the time frame (that is, before his patience wore thin).

Seto decided she was just as bad as Mokuba. Since when did people start to… not fear him?

"It's my neighbor. He's a Platinum member, but his name doesn't match the records, and I was worried this was an issue dealing with forgery or a stolen identity."

"_Neighbor, huh?_" Rebecca said absently, her fingers flying along her keyboard. She finished her task of connecting Seto's laptop to the system, but began to investigate for her own curiosity.

"Yes… he's living in three-eight--"

"_I know, I know. He's the only person on your floor_," Rebecca interrupted, opening screens with great alacrity, "_He's taking a shower right now. OH. Wow, he's taking a shower right now_," she repeated, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.

"WHAT!" Seto felt a _big _twinge of anger. _Ever heard of privacy, little girl?_

"… _You want to take a peek too, Kaiba?_"

"NO. Why would I?"

"… _You want me to list the reasons alphabetically? 'Cause… _WOW"

Seto was sure he was going to kill something.

"_Shoot, if I had known he was living here all along… sheesh… thanks for the head's up, Kaiba. No pun intended._" The girl began to laugh at her own private joke.

"Will you _stop _that?"

"_What are you getting all jealous about, Kaiba?_" Rebecca asked mischievously, "_Your computer can see all this too now, you know._"

"It can?" Seto asked, surprised she had worked so fast, "I mean… fuck, Rebecca! That's it… I'm overriding these video cameras."

"_I can change your code in two seconds, Kaiba_," Rebecca giggled, "_Geez, don't get so uptight about it… I get it, I get it. I'm going back to bed after all. Can't stay up all night and watch this guy shower and all._"

"I know you can. I'm just telling you in advance not to mess with what I write, okay?"

"_Yes, sir_," the girl answered with a yawn, "_Call me if you need anything, Kaiba._"

"Thank you, Rebecca," Seto finally said as he easily opened the search engine for _Pharaoh's Palace_'s members, "You've been a great help. I…"

"_Probably couldn't have done it without me?_"

Seto didn't want to admit it, but he silently nodded, never thinking Rebecca couldn't see him.

The fourteen-year-old tech prodigy giggled, "_Kaiba, I'm sure if you weren't so confused, you could have broken all my codes at some point._"

"…"

Since when did the younger generation become so perceptive? It was almost disturbing.

"_At _some_ point_," Rebecca added with some thought, "_Few days… maybe a few weeks… oh… now that I think about it…_"

"… Good night, Hopkins," Seto stated with finality, hanging up with a sigh.

* * *

Katsuya looked up when he heard the angry slam of the exit door. Ryou jumped in his seat and turned with a look of worry in his eyes.

"… 'Kura…"

The dealer didn't answer. Ryou pushed himself off the stool and rushed toward his older brother, but the other stopped him with one hand to his shoulder.

"'Kura, what happened? What's wrong?" A frown marred Ryou's features as he clasped his own hand over Bakura's that held him at bay.

"It… It's nothing, Ryou," Bakura finally answered, his other hand lifting to rub the asperity from his face, hiding his features before he ran the same hand through his hair.

After studying the dealer's appearance anxiously, Ryou exclaimed, "_You're lying!_"

The seventeen year old threw off his brother's hand and propelled himself forward, throwing his arms around the other's neck.

The force threw Bakura backwards into a set of chairs. His head barely missed the edge of the table as he went down with his brother on top of him. The chairs scattered around them.

They fell heavily against the floor, and Bakura stifled a curse into a groan as his back hit the floor. By sheer instinct did Bakura manage to not do his head any damage. Seconds later, Bakura worked to sit up with a grimace.

"_Ryou_," Bakura gasped, trying to desperately to unhook his brother from his upper body. "Ryou. _Please._"

"No," came the muffled answer from his collar, and Bakura shifted uncomfortably, trying to untangle their legs.

"Ryou…" Bakura said, his voice holding a note of warning, "You're _seventeen_ and you still act like--"

"--You _hate_ me, don't you, Aniki?"

Bakura stiffened, and his little brother's arms tightened around him. "… What are you…?" The idea was preposterous.

"You left me to come over here, didn't you? _Didn't you? _Obviously staying in Japan with me was too much to bear, huh? Isn't that right? Why don't you love me anymore, why don't you care, why did you--" Ryou's voice broke into hysterical sobs. His fingers threaded deeper into Bakura's lengthy hair and stayed fisted like he could not bring himself to let go.

The dealer froze, staring disbelieving over Ryou's quivering shoulder. Was this seriously the reason his little brother had tracked him down.

Because he was a negligent guardian?

What was the world coming to?

Bakura began to laugh. One hand looped around his brother's waist and the other went to cover his mouth; he was laughing that hard.

Ryou loosened his hold and pulled back enough to see the insane glint in his older brother's tearing eyes. Shock gripped him, and Ryou fought to calm down enough to ask, "… 'Kura…? What's so funny?"

In response, Bakura embraced Ryou closer and buried his face into his younger brother's shoulder, his laughing slowing down until he was chuckling weakly.

"'Kura…"

Heaving, Bakura's frame shook in Ryou's arms. Quietly, Bakura's mumbling began, "This is fucking hilarious. My boyfriend is sleeping with his twin, and my little brother thinks I hate him. My life is a fucking comedy. Oh my fucking god, I wouldn't trade my life for anything right now…"

There was a subtle sniff as Bakura lifted his head, hand rubbing his eyes. He looked at the distraught look on Ryou's face and gave a small smile. Ryou stayed fearfully silent.

"Ryou… I…" Bakura wanted to apologize, but his body began to shake again, and Bakura started snickering. _"Holy fucking SHIT, why can't I stop laughing?_"

Suddenly a huge wave of wet ice was poured over his head, drenching him from head to waist and began to spread across the floor to dampen his slacks. Ryou cried out when he was half hit with the onslaught of icy wetness.

"Didn't quite know when I ought to have stepped in," came Katsuya's jovial voice, "Hm… the bar will be out of ice for a while though."

Bakura wiped his soaked bangs from his face and glared hard at the golden-blond bartender, "What the fuck was that for, shithead?"

Ryou whined as he got to his feet, as several ice cubes managed to find their way into his clothes. He wrung out his hair and shivered.

"I felt I needed to mop the floors, that's all," Katsuya grinned, moving to the back room to get something to clean up the hazardous mess in the middle of the lounge.

"Aw, fuck. Now I'm going to be late for work," Bakura scowled, standing up dripping wet and sufficiently chilled.

"… Are we going back to change?" Ryou asked, arms wrapped around himself to try and lessen the chill from his wet clothes.

"Fuck yes. Stupid Jou," muttered the dealer, "Going to get the car fucking wet too."

Katsuya whistled innocently, returning with a bucket, mop, and a couple of towels.

"Come on, Ryou," Bakura ordered, snatching a towel and rubbing Ryou's head fussily, "If you catch a cold, I don't know what I'd do…"

"'Kura…"

"… Lucky for us, it's warm outside, but cold, wet clothes is never quite a…"

"'KURA."

"What is it?" Bakura frowned, wrapping the towel around Ryou's head.

"I love you. I do."

There was a silence, and Katsuya mentally congratulated himself for a job well done.

"… We're leaving." The dealer grabbed the teenager's hand and pulled the other toward the exit door, the other hand rubbing a towel furiously through his own snowy white hair.

Katsuya looked amusedly as Ryou opened the door for his brother, who glowered in response. It looked like things were regaining normalcy again.

"_Love you too, Ryou._" Katsuya finally heard as the door shut behind the two brothers.

* * *

_Mutou, Atemu._

Along with the name was a picture reference (leading a gallery if wanted), along with anything Seto could imagine wanting to know. He was impressed at the comprehensive research done on those even remotely related or connected with his casino and hotel.

So that's what Yami had meant. Or Atemu. Well, Mutou, to be exact, seeing as they were not on close terms… or even terms at all. Or what were they?

Seto couldn't understand what in the world had brought on the kiss except for utter intoxication, but there was a difference between connecting mouth to mouth then, say, connecting fist to face or something that he would have expected (though he had to admit he hadn't really expected anything but to let the other wake up with a insane hangover and then challenge – and beat – the other at some game of his advantageous choice).

He fiddled with the mouse, hovering the pointer over the link next to the room number. A layout of the room was shown, along with a detailed map of even the occupant's belongings. The date of how long Atemu had been staying was listed and more. Beneath it all, it was the video link that tempted Seto the most.

Well, it's not like opening it would make a huge difference in his life anyway, Seto had finally decided as he opened the link and waited for the computer to connect.

His screen was split into now familiar panels of different angles. What looked like the bathroom was now empty, and Seto let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He straightened with disgust. These atypical feelings, or maybe just the situations themselves, were something he could definitely do without.

The figure in the room had collapsed on the bed with no thought to the consequences of sleeping with wet hair in what was assumed to be an air-conditioned suite. Having donned on sleepwear, it looked as if he was sleeping already.

Suddenly very curious about just how much his system was based on electronics, Seto began to dig deeper into the coding. With the security obsolete to him, he could get down to the bare necessities of 0's and 1's. Reading over the green numbers, he began to experiment with his own room.

The lights could be controlled by coding, as could the television, telephone, etc… but most importantly…

_-Click-_

He could unlock his own door by just altering 0's and 1's.

… Oh, was he going to have a field day fixing this little problem.

-

Atemu would have immediately fallen asleep had he not heard a disconcerting sound that came from the door. It sounded like the bolt shifting back from its locked position.

Pulling himself upright, he opened the door and looked up and down the hallway. It was eerily quiet, though that was very normal. He jiggled the outside handle and found it movable, indicating that the lock was somehow not working.

… Since when did vodka induce hallucinations?

He definitely needed to call the front desk about this.

-

The numbers danced for a second before Seto's eyes, and he blinked. Was…?

The next room's occupant had abandoned his last position on the bed and was now fiddling with the door.

Apparently Seto had mis-read the coding and ended up unlocking not only his door, but the entire 38th floor's doors. He wondered if Yami had noticed the lights and television going off their rockers as well.

-

Before Atemu had even reached his phone, it began to ring. In the back of his mind, he could not help but be grateful that something was going to keep him awake so that the alcohol would wear off enough so that the next morning would not be absolute hell.

_Must be calling to tell me something's wrong with their security or something._

"Hello?" he answered, wondering if he still sounded like a half-wit drunk. The shower had certainly cleared at least the rational part of his mind. Or so he hoped.

"_Mutou, is it?_"

"I was just about to call about what I should do about my door," Atemu laughed, "What a coincidence." _Or not… wow, am I still drunk?_ Atemu wondered vaguely.

"… _Don't worry about that. I called to make sure you didn't inform the front desk that I've been messing around with the main system."_

_That almost sounds shady,_ Atemu blinked, but really didn't have the will (or ability at the moment) to piece anything together, "… Who are you?" was the most intellectual and practical question he could manage.

"_Oh, you know me, _Yami._ Or should I call you Mutou Atemu?_"

* * *

"Well, that's done."

The cursor saved the document and closed the open windows of the computer screen. Now all that was left to do was make a little call.

Glancing around the cabin, he punched the numbers into his phone. Even though cell phone usage was prohibited, he felt this was rather important.

"I don't have time to explain, but pick me up at the airport in about an hour,_" _was his hurried message before he quickly shut his phone.

Satisfied with his plans, he decided to follow the suit of other passengers in napping.

It wasn't until the flight attendant politely tapped him on the shoulder to indicate that the plane had landed that he woke up. After securing his belongings and leaving the plane, he was accosted by the summer weather, very different from the cold airplane.

"Ugh. It's _hot_."

The woman working behind the counter at the airport rolled her eyes at the young foreigner's complaint.

As other plane passengers pushed past the young man, he continued to stand in the middle of the exit, and commented finally, "And really humid."

Unable to keep quiet any longer, the clerk stood up and cleared her throat, "Sir, could you please move to one side so others can pass?"

"Sure thing," the tall male replied smoothly, beginning to pull off his gray blazer as he stepped toward the counter, "By the way, if I were to be picked up, where would that be?"

The question was bewildering in many aspects. Instantly sensing the other's confusion, the young man gave her a boyish grin as he loosened the tie around his neck, "I've never… how would I say this…?"

"Have you ever ridden in a plane before, sir?" the clerk suggested, thinking she had caught on to his explanation.

There was a pause, in which case, the man slowly pulled off his shades that he had been wearing on the aircraft when he had dozed off. Considering the question, he hooked the glasses into his shirt pocket and finally answered, "Publicly, no."

As he watched amusedly as the clerk's eyebrows nearly shot to her hairline, a familiar figure decked in similar business attire slipped through the glass doors further down the hall and hurried over.

"Mokuba Kaiba," came the exasperated address, "It's one thing to drive your brother crazy, but myself as well? You gave me sixty minutes to drop everything and rush over here!"

"Oops," blue eyes sparkled playfully as the young man turned away from the counter, "But, Kisa-san…"

"Don't tell me this was another one of your spontaneous acts, Mokuba," the secretary warned.

"I don't have any luggage, if that entails spontaneity," the twenty-year-old smiled innocently. He could just imagine what was running through the other's mind.

_As if looking after one wasn't bad enough…_

"You didn't bring _anything?_" Kisara gestured for Mokuba to follow her out of the airport while she scolded him, "What did you expect to do here?"

Mokuba hoisted the bag that held his laptop into the secretary's line of view, and tried to look abashed. Quite failing at the attempt, Mokuba gave up and replied mischievously, "Bother Nii-san, of course. What else?"

"Somehow, this doesn't surprise me anymore," Kisara sighed.

* * *

'_Or should I call you Mutou Atemu?'_

How could he _not_ know who the caller was? The mere realization knocked panic into Atemu, sharpening his previous blurry mind. However, as sobering as the situation was, there was no stopping instinct.

The twenty-two-year old slammed the phone back onto its holder.

He did not know what else to do. Was it fear that he was feeling right now? Atemu closed his eyes and tried to sort out his emotions.

What was it that set him off?

It was the tone of the other's voice. There was a biting edge to the usual no-nonsense words. It was the sardonic, who-do-you-think-you-are-fooling quality. Atemu grimaced.

But… it wasn't illegal to have a nickname, right? Perhaps…

In the background of his thoughts, there was a soft click from the door. Atemu paid little attention, thinking the door had locked itself, what with his CEO neighbor fiddling with the system.

Perhaps it was…

"No one knows who you are."

The sudden presence of another shocked Atemu nearly to death, and in his surprise, he had backed himself against the headboard of his bed.

"_Fuck!_" was the harsh, but breathless expression that escaped Atemu, whose hand was pressed against his rapidly beating heart. "_What do you think you're doing!_"

Seto Kaiba had the nerve to look pleasantly nonchalant. Leaning against the wall across from where Yami was seated, the twenty-five-year old businessman answered easily, "I'm about to have an eye-opening conversation with you, of course."

"Wha--," Atemu trailed off the question into a slow exhale. Collecting himself, he narrowed his eyes and glared at the intruder, "Get out."

The CEO did not move a muscle. Atemu hands tensed and clenched the spread of blankets beneath him. Through gritted teeth, he repeated slowly, "Get. Out. Of. My. Room."

"I won't," Seto simply said.

"That's mature," was the younger man's sardonic reply, "Leave, or I'm calling security." Atemu, in order to emphasize his threat, placed his hand around the telephone receiver.

"I'm so scared."

"You…" There were no words to even voice his frustration. Atemu stabbed the buttons on the phone with more force than necessary. In his anger, he did not realize that the other had crossed the room in several steps and --

_YANK. Thunk._

Seto dropped the cord on top of the dresser with a satisfied glint in his darkened blue eyes. Atemu looked up with surprise and was almost mad enough to chuck the receiver at the other's head.

"I can't believe you did that," he finally commented, placing the telephone back on its holder.

Seto shrugged carelessly, "I'll leave when I'm finished with you."

There was something suspicious about the smirk that crossed the other's face just as Seto spoke his words.

"Okay, you arrogant prick. I'll see you later then."

With a casual gesture of deportation, Atemu shrugged on a shirt, side-stepped the taller man, and walked smoothly out his hotel room.

Seto stared as the door swung shut behind the other's swift figure. What the hell had just happened? Habitually running his hand through his chestnut locks, he grimly decided that this had gone on long enough. He was going to _anchor_ that damn brat down to the next stationary object once he got his hands on him.

Once in the hallway, Atemu glanced for a quick escape and his eyes fell on the most obvious choice, the elevator. However, in no mood to wait, he found the perfect route.

_Stairs…_

Just several feet behind him, the door opened. Locking gazes with the other, Atemu knew the other had no patience left to spare. Almost as if acting on instinct, the smaller male broke into a run for the stairwell.

Seto was (again, and for the thousandth time) surprised at the other's unpredictable actions. With longer strides, he reached the staircase just as it slammed shut behind Atemu. Wrenching it open, he grabbed the other by the shoulder and shoved him easily against the adjacent wall.

Atemu groaned as he hit the wall, hissing jumbled curses.

"Must you make me chase you!" the CEO snapped, irritated.

"Who said I wanted you to!" Atemu bit back, scowling as he tried to push the other away, to no avail. He was trapped against the wall effectively by the other's larger body.

"Listen, Yami," the brunette spoke in a low, dangerous tone, pressing closer when the other fought to get away, "You should remember who you're trying to fuck with."

Smirking, the younger one leaned up and replied humorlessly, "I wouldn't dream of fucking with anyone, Kaiba, especially _you._ You're probably quite violent in bed."

Seto's eyes narrowed angrily. Atemu mentally took note that the subject must be an uncomfortable one, more for the other man than himself. He switched his angle of attack.

"I'm sorry, did you think anything of my kissing you?" Atemu brought up boldly, adopting an apologetic look, thought not necessarily sincere, "I really didn't mean to. I had too much alco--"

The little space between the two closed when Seto unceremoniously stopped the other's words by sealing their lips together. Atemu's eyes widened as the warm sensation enveloped his mouth. Sparks ran down his spine and he argued desperately against his irrational side that was telling him to continue what felt so good. His crimson eyes slid close as he returned the kiss.

Unlike the quick brush he had received before, Seto opted to direct and firm contact. In the haze of desire, he nudged the other's mouth open, only to be met with Atemu's own inquiring tongue. Yet, as quickly as he had initiated it, Seto pulled away, rather bewildered at his own actions.

Atemu opened his eyes to the other's blue stare. He found no words for the situation.

"I--" Seto found himself mentally reeling in denial. He was an incredibly intelligent person, yet no reason was coming to him.

Shocked out of his mind, Atemu stared speechlessly at the other. Sure, the CEO was arrogant as hell, had a temper like Hades, and gorgeous like-- wait, _what!_

'_Oh, what the hell.'_ In a rare show of impulsiveness, Atemu reached up and, threading his fingers through the other's chestnut strands, pulled the taller man down for another kiss.

However, their lips did not meet as Seto stopped, millimeters from completing what both had in mind.

"Are you still drunk?" was Seto's whispered question.

He received a muted, leisurely kiss. With half-lidded eyes, Atemu replied slowly, "_I_ don't think so. Are _you?_" This was accented with a slightly tilted head.

This rendered a slight smile from the taller man. Bending down slightly until he could almost nibble on the curve of the other's ear, Seto answered easily, "No. Unlike someone," his breath ghosted across Atemu's earlobe, causing him to shudder, "_I_ can hold my alcohol."

"Jerk."

"Am I?"

Atemu nearly yelped as the other unexpectedly pressed his lips against the column of his throat.

"Wha-," the rate of his pulse had to have doubled, "What are you doing?" he managed, though surrendered to a soft moan as Seto sucked where his heartbeat leapt.

Yet, when Seto moved to kiss him again, Atemu complied wholeheartedly. As if having proved a point, Seto replied, "And what are you doing?"

The younger man turned red from embarrassment. Any retaliation was cut off, however, when they both heard the _ding_ that came from the arrival of the elevator at their floor.

"Was that--?" Atemu pointed out, eyes widening slightly. His grip on the other's arm tightened.

"I think so," Seto replied, turning his head toward the sound. He was instantly on guard, even though the two were still pressed together.

"I thought we were--"

"The only ones on this floor," Seto finished quickly, narrowing his eyes as he heard the elevator door close and footsteps rescinding down the hall, away from the pair.

"We certainly have our brains wired alike," Atemu commented, "What's the plan of action?"

Somewhere down the hall, a door swung shut loudly within the silence of the 38th floor.

"I need to check something," the CEO answered, pulling away, his mind focused on getting to his laptop in his suite.

The brunette didn't get very far before a hand darted out and grabbed his wrist. Surprised, he turned back.

"Can I come too?" Atemu asked with a charming smile.

Seto felt his will waver at the words themselves, but with the smile, it seemed to completely disintegrate. With a wry grin, he answered, "If you're _that_ bored."

"Well, you're just _that_ interesting," Atemu joked in return, falling into step with the other.

-

As Mokuba stepped out of the elevator, he had the suspicion that something was not quite right. His older brother did not pick up his cell phone, which was strike one. Seto _always_ picked up his cell phone, no matter _how_ much Mokuba bothered him.

Sighing, Mokuba hung up his phone. A call to his brother's room _also _went unanswered. It didn't seem that Seto was in his own room either. Of course, right now would be the ideal time to be sleeping, but since when did Seto sleep through phone calls?

Ignoring his own personal suite, Mokuba was making use of the spare key that Kisara had given him to enter next door, Seto's room.

Upon entrance, Mokuba's mind screamed panic when he saw his brother's cell phone next to his hibernating laptop. Mokuba whirled around, checking the room for any other sign of 'disarray.' The room was eerily untouched, making him feel more anxious because the light had been left on as well.

Dropping into his brother's seat, Mokuba eyes widened when the computer screen cleared. A box showed a towel-strewn bathroom. Another box showed a slightly rumpled bed. Summing up all the rectangles, Mokuba concluded that this was the security camera's differing perspective of another suite.

The twenty-year-old slowly reached for his brother's phone as he exited the video windows. He found himself at a profile of what seemed to be a member of the hotel and casino. His eyes lingered on the room number of the said suite. Flipping open his brother's phone, he found that the last call had been placed to the same location. However, when Mokuba tried the same number, he got an automatic reply that the number could not be reached.

The door unlocked and Mokuba looked up abruptly.

"--As long as the new guy isn't an ass like you, I'll be happy," came a stranger's voice as the door opened slightly.

"Huh. As long as the new guy has an ass like yours, I'll be happy too."

The door swung open and Mokuba gaped from behind the laptop as two figures emerged in the doorway.

"Ugh. Kaiba. That's disgusting--"

Mokuba didn't know whether to scream or faint, or maybe a little of both. He did know, however, that if his eyes widened anymore, they might just fall out. The only noise that escaped him was a small groan.

"--And way too much infor…ma…" the shorter man next to his brother trailed off as he locked eyes with Mokuba.

Seto, wondering why Atemu froze, turned and reeled back. "**Mokuba!**"

"_Nii-san!_" Mokuba finally found his voice, but it had reverted back to the much-bewildered-twelve-year-old-little-brother voice.

"I don't think--" Atemu took a step back right into Seto, "--I should be here."

"It's my room," Seto half-argued as he pushed the other forward, though his eyes were still searching his brother's for some answers.

"It _is_ your room," Mokuba agreed, getting up from the chair slowly, breaking his gaze with Seto and studying Atemu, "But I'm forgetting my manners." He approached Atemu, and though younger than the other, had a good few inches over the twenty-two year old. "I'm Mokuba Kaiba, VP of Kaiba Corp."

"Nice to meet you," Atemu smiled back and chuckled, "I'm Yami, and I'm feeling rather short next to you two."

"That's because you are," Seto offered from behind him.

"Prick. I like your brother a lot more than you already."

The pieces began to fall into place. The only problem was that the picture was looking a bit too strange to be true.

Turning to his brother, Mokuba gestured to Atemu and asked, "Is he…?"

"He is," Seto answered readily.

"_Seriously?_"

Seto gave an apathetic monosyllabic affirmative. Mokuba couldn't help but give Atemu another thorough look. Atemu, in turn, ran his crimson eyes over the other's smooth features. Unlike the older sibling, Mokuba kept a boyish image with loose ebony strands that were free to get into his blue eyes.

"Okay, fine," Mokuba seemed to be satisfied with who knows what, but Seto instantly knew something was up with his brother's trademark smirk appeared, "But why is he in your room?"

* * *

**A/N:** I would have continued… but all inspiration sort of fizzled on. Should I go on? Or is this time to abandon this fic?

Review? Please?


End file.
